The Aftermath
by thereichenbachpen
Summary: After the events of the Prisoner's Dilemma, the members of the Mysterious Benedict Society are beginning to grow up. The beginnings of the teenage years bring confusion and mystery in and of itself, but how will they deal with the pressures of growing up when yet another adventure finds its way into their lives? (Spoilers for EEONB. K plus for minor violence. Some innocent Kaynie.)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The Disturbance

In a city called Stone Town a great house reposed in the lazy purple shadows of a summer's day drifting into night. Its occupants readied for the hazy sleep that lingering heat provides. Kate Wetherall dropped her toothbrush into the holder and, with a well-aimed throw at the towel rack, replaced the damp towel with a flourish. Warily checking that her bucket still lay on the bed she exited her compartment, which adjoined with Milligan's (though it was empty at the moment) through a door on the far wall, and entered a small hallway that presented a flight of narrow steps. Characteristically, she was early, but was patient enough, and waited for the others.

Reynie came first. He sat quietly beside her and searched her eyes, "Will you be alright?"

Kate knew what he meant. Once he had healed from all his injuries, Milligan, her father, had gone away on some secret business. She had no idea where he was, what he was doing, or even how long he'd be gone (technically, he was retried, but people still asked for his services). She didn't want Reynie to know how worried she was, but she knew he already did. That's just the way he was. He always knew what to say or when to be quiet- like he was now. She shrugged, plopping her chin gloomily in her hands, "I guess… I just thought he'd stick around more, now that we're…" She didn't bother searching for a word. She knew Reynie understood.

"Settled?" he offered quietly and Kate shrugged her acceptance. That was just it though; everyone in the house had settled down, but that's not how Milligan worked. He always had to be busy and now that the chores were done and school was out for the summer, there wasn't much to do- except dishes. There were always plenty of dishes. Kate happened to be very much like her father, including the great stores of creativity they both possessed. But even that was running low.

Kate shrugged again, listening to the telltale squabbles of Constance and Sticky as they made their way toward them. Actually, you could only hear Sticky's side of the conversations as Constance preferred to use different modes of communication. Except for some disgruntled sighs, Constance was completely silent. Sticky was exasperated, "No, Constance," he was saying, "You can't make me wear my glasses!" Pause. "I like my contacts- I'm just getting used to them." Sigh, pause, "Ugh! No, Constance! Who cares if I blink a lot?" Another pause, "It does _not_ give you a headache. It's all the mind reading that's giving you a headache! And can't you just talk? Stop putting words in my head!" Reynie sighed: Sticky should be in high spirits since his over protective parents were away on an extended vacation for their anniversary and Sticky was staying on the upper floor with the Benedicts instead of in his house across the street.

"No need to be so icky, picky Sticky," Constance clucked gleefully. She was triumphant. Only that morning Sticky had angrily asked her to close her mouth. And so she had. Kate and Reynie grimaced at Constance's satisfied tone of voice. She was only five-years-old (nearly six), but she knew how to upset people. Everyone in the house had learned to put up his guard around her, but Sticky turned out to be the most forgetful (which is quite an ironic thing to say, if you know Sticky in the least).

Reynie gave Sticky a significant look, thinking carefully in Tamil (a language he had almost mastered) so that Constance wouldn't recite his sympathetic visage into words. Sticky sighed and sat against the wall beside Reynie while Constance stuck out her tongue at Reynie and slid crossly into a seat against Kate's back.

"I don't know why we still have these stupid meetings. There's nothing to talk about." She folded her tiny arms over chest with a huff.

"I don't know about that, Constance," Reynie said, his lips twitching at her irritation- he was still thinking in Tamil. "We have the whole summer ahead of us. What will we do with it?" he asked excitedly. He already had some ideas, but wanted the other children to give their input before he said anything else.

"You know, I was thinking-" Sticky started, a far away look in his eyes.

"-That you could sit around and read all the boring old books in this stinking stuffy house," Constance finished for him, tainting his actual thoughts considerably. Sticky scowled, Constance grinned.

Kate and Reynie exchanged looks. They were both rather tired of the younger kids' arguments (though Reynie could hardly be called older than Sticky- they were both nearing 15). Kate, being the oldest in the group, brought it upon herself – with Reynie's help, of course- to break up the bickering whenever she could. Smiling at Sticky, she said, "Sounds like a capitol idea, chum-o. I'll bet you've already finished most of them."

Sticky blushed, reaching up automatically for his glasses, which weren't their, then ducked shyly, "Not quite…" he mumbled.

"What was your idea, Reynie? I know you had one," Kate said expectantly.

Reynie positively beamed at her, "Well, you know, Mr. Benedict's birthday is next. I was thinking we could all make him something." Kate and Sticky nodded excitedly, but Constance only looked at Reynie, adamantly moody.

"What could I possibly make for him?" she asked.

"Perhaps a book of poems? You know how he loves them- and he'll really be able to enjoy them now that he won't fall asleep with emotion." Reynie smiled as Constance tried to hide her look of interest. "Kate, you could make him a contraption of some kind," Reynie said, turning excitedly to Kate, who was dreamily retying her ponytail.

"Yeah… Maybe something to keep his books tidy. Hey, you don't suppose he'd want a bucket of his own, would you? With places for his glasses and pens…" She stopped, thinking up other devises she could put in it.

Grinning encouragingly, Reynie said, "Yes, I think he'd like that. Maybe not a bucket- just so you don't get them confused." Reynie wasn't altogether sure Mr. Benedict would want a bucket, but a briefcase or handbag of some sort might do. He always had to lug things around with him.

Kate waved her hand dismissively, "I'll make it a different color…"

Sticky looked depressed, slumping against the wall, unable to think of anything. Reynie pretended not to notice, saying, "Sticky, I was hoping you could help write a book of our adventures- you know, since we met."

Brightening considerably, he asked, "Really? You'd want me to help you?"

"Sure," said Reynie, "I'll need your help remembering everything- just how it was." It was true: Sticky had a perfect memory. "Actually, I'll need a little help from you girls, too, just to make sure I get everything down correctly."

"You got it, Reynie," Kate said, "but I think you'll have to wait till tomorrow to ask Constance. She's out." Indeed, Constance lay with her head lulling against Kate's shoulder, sound asleep. "I'll carry her upstairs and say goodnight to you boys up there."

Sticky sighed, looking warily relieved at Constance, who looked deceivingly harmless in her sleep. Kate scooped her up and all three of them moved down the hall. They could hear the grown-ups chatting in the kitchen, but there was no need to eavesdrop anymore. Maybe they could pick up on some summer plans, but in silent agreement, the children decided to leave any surprises the adults wanted to give them just what they were: surprises.

Sticky slipped into his room, yawning a sleepy goodnight. Reynie helped Kate situate Constance in her bed, slipping the shoes off her tiny feet and tucking the blankets around her chin. Although she was still small, Constance had grown considerably over the last couple of years. Soon even Kate would have trouble hauling her around.

Walking with Reynie to his room, Kate was quiet for once. Reynie smiled sadly at her, "Kate, I wanted to ask you something."

She couldn't help but smile, "Of course you do. How do you always know when something's bothering me?"

He shrugged. Silent for a moment, he asked, "I'm not sure, but I think it has to do with something more than Milligan being gone. Am I right?"

She nodded, now standing in his doorway, "I think…" she looked away, not wanting to betray her tears, "I think Madge is ill. She hasn't been eating properly and… her feathers have been falling out."

Reynie sighed, trying to give a comforting look, "I'm sure it's just a phase. You could ask Sticky about it. I'm sure he knows all about birds."

Kate perked up immediately, "I'm sure he does."

"Don't worry about it, Kate. Get some sleep. We'll meet tomorrow morning- top of the stairs. Goodnight."

He hardly needed to tell her this- they always met at the top of the stairs in the mornings right before breakfast, but Kate nodded all the same, "Thanks, Reynie," She said, clasping his hand briefly, "Goodnight." He drew the door closed and Kate moved down to her lonely apartment that she couldn't help but think of as a dungeon.

~::~

With unusual slowness, Kate picked up her bucket and pushed the handle over fist, sliding it up to her shoulder and wrapping her arms around Madge's cage. Kicking Milligan's door open, Kate settled her things inside his apartment- as she did every night he was away. Switching off the light, Kate climbed up into Milligan's bed, forsaking her nightly habit of targeting the light switch with things from her bucket. She watched the shadows of blowing trees from behind the curtains of newly cut windows.

Her eyes grew heavy and she smiled, assuring herself that Milligan would be home soon. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if he showed up tonight. Smiling wider at the thought of him finding her asleep in his bed, Kate started to drift, imagining the limbs of the restless trees as live figures. The aching house groaned in the night and she let her eye lids drop still lower, listening to the shush of the wind, sounding like the movement of a window being opened.

Sitting up with a start, Kate watched as the figure she thought she had imagined leapt onto the sill. Kate grasped her bucket with shaking fingers, thinking of Ten Men and kidnappers. Around the corner of the curtains came the unmistakable form of Milligan's tranquilizer gun. Kate sighed, releasing her bucket and sliding her feet over the bed.

"Oh, Milligan," she whispered into the night. She'd never learned to call him dad, and he didn't seem to mind. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just fell asleep in your bed, you see. There was no need for you to come in the window, really, you should have known it was me by Madge's cage…" her own words were sinking in even as not Milligan, but McCracken stepped down into the room.

"Hello, Ducky," he said, smiling, "Oh, dear, I'm afraid I'm not your Milligan- but we'll have just as much fun! Don't you worry. And we'll go see Daddy dearest real soon- cross my heart." He put on a playful face and made an x over his chest. "But right now, plucky, it's time for nighty-nights…. Sweet dreams…" and before Kate could make a move, the plume of one of Milligan's darts sank into her shoulder.

~::~

Reynie lay in his bed, puzzling over his flow of thoughts. For some reason he couldn't get Kate's image out of his head: The way she had hidden her tears and the light in her eyes when he announced his ideas for the summer. She was an exceptional girl. But, why was it that he could not stop thinking about her? Was he just concerned that she didn't have Milligan? No, he thought not. It was definitely something more. He rolled over onto his side, not wanting to give into the answer nagging at the back of his mind. Kate was just his friend, he told himself convincingly. But still blinked unsleeping at the far wall.

His door creaked open and Reynie became very still. No shadow was thrown on the wall, as it should've done if someone had walked into his room. Was someone creeping along the ground in his room? Very slowly, he started to turn. A small hand closed around his ankle and Reynie gasped sitting up. There stood Constance looking very small and very scared.

Trying to catch his breath, Reynie asked, "What is it, Constance? Bad dream?"

She shook her head and climbed up on the bed to sit beside him, eyes petrified, "It's Kate."

"What's Kate?" Reynie asked, wondering if she'd been reading his mind. He quickly focused on thinking in Tamil.

She shook her head, taking small gasping breaths, "Why I can't sleep…" Closing her eyes, Constance took on a look of concentration.

"Well, what's she thinking?" Reynie asked gently, putting a hand on the little girl's back.

"That's just it. It was like I heard her scream," she tapped her temple, eyes squeezed shut, "you know, in here. And then… silence. Like she suddenly fell asleep…"

Reynie felt that it was highly likely that Kate had woken up from a bad dream and then went back to sleep. Especially since she was feeling so down lately, but he said quietly, "Would it make you feel better if I checked on her?"

Constance opened her eyes gratefully, "Would you mind?"

This wasn't at all like Constance. Maybe she was too sleepy to remember her lack of manners. Reynie helped her down from the bed, walking her quietly down the hall to her room, "Of course not. I couldn't sleep myself."

Constance stopped suddenly, her face growing white, "Oh, Reynie, hurry!" She didn't bother to keep her voice down now.

Maybe it was Constance's tone and authority in her voice or perhaps her terrified expression, but Reynie knew he wouldn't find Kate. His stomach dropped as he tore down stairs. Her bed was empty and still made from this morning's chores. He threw Milligan's door open. Madge broke out in angry screeches as Reynie's eyes flew between the empty bed, open window, and Kate's bucket. On the window beneath a small stone, sat a fluttery white thing, quite like an injured bird wanting to fly. Reynie crossed the room and picked up what turned out to be a piece of paper that read:

If you want to see Miss Wetherall again, wait for the list and follow the demands. Until then, she remains in my hands.

~L. Curtain~

~::~

Kate woke with a spitting headache. The ground beneath her bumped and rolled. Inching her eyes open with unbearable caution, she found herself to be blindfolded and bound tightly to some kind of poll, which she rested against. She made a dreamy sound, as if she could still be asleep.

"Is our little chicklet awake, Crawlings?" asked McCracken's voice.

"I think not," he chuckled, "that dart was strong enough to keep a full man down for the count—I should know. Wouldn't be surprised if she slept till morning."

"I hope Milligan doesn't mind that I borrowed his gun. He doesn't have much use for it where he is," McCracken drawled followed by the unmistakable ruffle of newspaper.

His words echoed in her mind, ' _where he is'…_ what did that mean? Was he even alive? Kate's pulse quickened at the thought, but she pushed it away. She felt sure that she was being used as leverage- why else would they want her? And who could her life sway except Milligan? Maybe the folks back at the house, but they were safe. Weren't they? Suddenly wondering if she was the only captive, Kate pretended to roll over in her sleep, attempting to move her blindfold.

One of the men started to get up (sounded like McCracken because the floor groaned) and the other said laughingly, "Don't be so worried. She's just tossing. It's not so comfy to sleep in the back of a moving car, after all."

"Don't underestimate her, Crawlings. She's a tricky one…" McCracken warned, but he didn't come near Kate.

Unable to slide her blindfold down at all, Kate pondered 'waking up' so that she could make enough movement to see, if only for a moment.

Crawling yawned loudly, "Do you think we're almost to the airport, McCracken? I'm afraid my stomach doesn't like all this jostling." Kate heard him pat his stomach several times.

"Nearly, but we won't be able to board till ducky wakes. The _boss_ wants to see her awake and well. You see, he doesn't approve of them being sedated." Since when was Mr. Curtain so concerned about his captives' well being? "You won't tell him I helped her sleep now will you? I thought it best. I have enough scars from that one already…"

"Yes, I heard she unloaded that bucket of hers on you," Crawlings chortled.

"Yes, and I'll admit she has quite an impeccable aim…" He became pensive, "Where is her bucket anyway? She's rarely seen without it…" There was another ruffle as he readjusted his seat, "No, matter. It'll be easier without it."

Kate's stomach sank. Her bucket. Why hadn't she worn it to bed? She knew she should have, but she'd always found that her hip ached whenever she woke. Kate decided to try to 'sleep' as long as she could, seeing as they wouldn't board, a plane she was assuming, until she woke.

After a few minutes, the car stopped and Crawlings moaned imploringly, "Do you think we could wake the little darling? My bed is calling to me. I wouldn't want to be stuck here for the rest of the night- and besides, look how uncomfortable she looks!" He crooned with false concern.

"Hm…" McCracken considered, "Maybe a little shock with that watch of yours would do it."

At this, Kate sat bolt upright, "Good morning fellows!" Smiling brightly, she did her best to shake her blindfold from her. For the tiniest moment, she saw both the Ten Men's angry looks and the dark interior of a dimly lit van. McCracken fastened the blindfold around her more securely.

"I _thought_ she was awake," he mumbled, carefully untying the binds on her arms and pulling her out of her sitting position. Kate's head swam and she clamped her mouth shut, feeling that she might vomit. Realizing that a mess might detain them, she opened her mouth again, but the queasiness had passed. "Now, ducky, will you be a big girl and walk by yourself, or do you need me to hold your hand?" he asked.

Knowing the question was meant to be a threat, Kate smiled, "If you untie my hands, I'd be glad to hold yours…" She popped her knuckles behind her and fluttered her eyelashes. Kate had exceptionally strong hands, but so did McCracken. She knew this from experience.

"Not a chance," Crawlings growled, stepping in before McCracken could answer. "We can't afford to lose her. No messing around. Do you have some duct tape, McCracken? I think it'd be best if she didn't speak."

"I don't think the _boss_ would like that, Crawlings. And neither would Kate, would you, sweetie?" He said, as if talking to a baby.

"Oh, no, thank you. I like my lips just where they are," she replied sappily.

"Well, I think you should at least carry her, McCracken. She's a master at getaways," Said Crawlings nervously.

"Oh, _I_ know that, Crawlings But I also know enough not to touch her more than I have to. But, by all means, you can carry her, if you like," McCracken said, as if he were discussing a rather boring sport.

Crawling made a sound of hesitation then knelt before Kate, who promptly stepped on his hands. He yelped and drew back in pain. Kate purred, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

McCracken laughed, "You all right there, Crawlings? Anything broken?"

Crawlings made an odd growling noise in the back of his throat and Kate said mockingly, "Oh, no! Did I hurt you?"

McCracken laughed good-naturedly, but squeezed Kate's arm a little too tightly, "Manners, plucky. Please apologize to Mr. Crawling, dear," he mocked.

"But, I didn't do it on _purpose_ ," Kate responded, trying to sound innocent and flashing a winning smile in what she thought was Crawlings's direction. "Besides, I couldn't say I'm sorry properly with the blindfold on." She craned around hopefully, trying to smile at McCracken, who squeezed her arm still tighter. Soon, she wouldn't be able to feel it- the blood circulation was being cut off.

"Nice, try, but that's not going to happen," He said then addressed Crawlings, "Do you think we should go in now? Chickadee here doesn't seem to be in the best temper. Maybe we ought to put her back to sleep- say she took a nappy on the way here? He probably won't question it."

"But if he does," warned Crawlings, "we'll be out of the job."

"Why is Mr. Curtain so concerned about my well-being?" asked Kate sweetly, cringing inwardly as McCracken redoubled his grip on her.

Both the men laughed openly, "It's not Mr. Curtain who's making this so hard. He'd have you bound _and_ gagged, not to mention unconscious."

"Then who?" asked Kate.

"You'll see soon enough," McCracken grumbled. "Enough talk. I think we'll have to board now."

"What about her? Maybe we could bring some tape with us? You know, just in case."

"Hm, I don't know," McCracken mused. Then he bent down to ask Kate, "You'll behave, won't you, plucky?" His cologne was strong and made her dizzy.

"When have _I ever_ been disobedient?" Kate asked, sarcastically.

McCracken sighed, "Ah, well. Bring the tape Crawlings, but keep it well hidden. The boy might be an idiot, but has enough sense to guess what the tape's for."

Crawling grunted assent then moved around for a moment (to get the tape, Kate guessed) before opening the back on the van with a long creek. It was still dark out, Kate thought. Surely she'd be able to see at least a little light through her blindfold, even if the morning was still dim. Crawling answered inward question:

"It's nearing three- we don't depart till a quarter after. Do you think the boy'll let me switch out shifts so I can get some sleep?" He yawned, emphasizing his point, "I'm dead tired."

"I'm sure you could talk him into it," McCracken said without much conviction- his mind seemed preoccupied. "Hey, Crawlings," he asked wonderingly, "Is it just me, or is our little missy related to our ride?"

"Huh!" Said Crawlings, amused, " _Wetherall Flights!"_ he read, "Would you look at that. It seems as though you have a plane with your name on it, Kate!" The two men guffawed and lifted her up onto a platform that led steeply up into the warm interior of an airplane.

"Come, Kitten, we must make you look presentable before you meet the boss." This turned out to mean taking off the ropes that bound her feet and hands. Finally, they slid the blind from her eyes and Kate took in her surroundings.

They were in a small space (McCracken actually had to duck) with leather seats and expensive carpeting. There was even a classy-looking fridge in one corner.

The men had careful hold of both of her hands and Kate was dragged forward, bucketless, to meet the boss. They entered a long hall with a dining table that looked like it had been through a taffy puller. The table was littered with junk food and fluttering papers and at the end of it sat a very drowsy S.Q. Pedalian.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Doors and Distractions

Kate stared. S.Q. was the boss? Now that she thought about it, the Ten Men had referred to him as "the boy", which S.Q. certainly was. She doubted he was twenty yet.

Sitting up with a sleepy start, S.Q. smiled, "Hello, Kate! It's so nice to see you…" he shifted his gaze, looking uncertainly at her clenched arms, "Did you have a pleasant trip?" His voice was doubtful.

"Bit rough for my taste," Kate said with a meaningful look at McCracken, who tightened his hand, "but it was fine. How you been, S.Q.?

"Oh, I'm doing pretty well. All this stuff is pretty wearing though…" He brightened, "Mr. Curtain trusts _me_ to be in charge? Can you believe that?"

The Ten Men snorted, but Kate smiled, "Of course, S.Q.- or should I call you Mr. Pedalian now?" S.Q. beamed at this, but waved his hand dismissing the idea. "You're a very trust worthy guy and you've got loads of sense. Why not trust you?" She knew this was pushing it, but she liked S.Q.

"Thanks, Kate, that means a lot," he said, blushing. "Well, I'd ask you to stay for…" he glanced at his watch, "breakfast? Or maybe very late dinner…" he shook his head, "Either way, I'd ask you to stay and eat, but your father will be very glad to see you and I'm sure you don't want wait any longer. We'll talk some more later."

Knowing that Ten Men would never let her see Milligan (they knew better than to let them brainstorm), Kate asked, "Would you walk me to my room, S.Q?"

Kate almost cried aloud with the pain in her arm when McCracken growled, "Mr. Pedalian is busy and I'm sure he wouldn't want to get into trouble with Mr. Curtain. I'll take you to your room."

S.Q. leapt up, "No, I'm not busy right now! I'd love to walk with you, Kate!" he strode over and took gentle hold of Kate's other arm while McCracken released his. Crawling stood in the doorway, blocking the way they had come through, but Kate didn't make a move. She knew she couldn't get past them without her bucket and if she did she had no idea where she was. How could she escape? And besides, she wanted to make sure Milligan was all right.

They moved across the room to a closed door that led out into a long thin hallway. It was a very large plane. They walked down almost 18 feet of tiled ground, lined with doors, marked, oddly enough, with numbers chosen obviously at random. Finally, they came to a halt in front of one of the last doors, marked with a foreboding 6. S.Q. found the handle and turned it with no success. Of course the door was locked.

"He must be… sleeping. I'll open it. I have a key," said McCracken awkwardly. He rapped loudly on the door, "Milligan? Kate is here. We're coming in." He unlocked the door with a metallic click.

Kate stepped into the dark room wanting to rush in and find Milligan, but instead she forced herself to smile her thanks to S.Q. and ask McCracken sweetly, "May I have your key? Just in case I need to slip out and find the door locked, you know."

McCracken bristled, but S.Q. smiled kindly, "Of course, Kate, you may have mine! This is not a prison, after all. " He handed her a small black key, which she quickly slipped into her pocket.

"Thank you, so much." She stretched, yawning, "I guess I'll see you in the morning, S.Q., fellows," she said, nodding her head at McCracken and Crawlings. Then she closed the door behind her. She heard retreating footsteps, then a definite click of the lock.

Shakily, Kate fumbled for a light switch without success. Bumping into a desk, Kate found the unmistakable form of a candle and matchbox, which felt about half empty. Hastily lighting it, Kate whipped around, scanning the room for Milligan. The room was not very big (hardly more than a closet at four feet by six feet). Kate began to despair that the Ten Men had tricked S.Q. into taking her to a vacant room, when she saw him.

Slumped in the corner with a ridiculous smile on his face, a bruised and bloody Milligan put up a quavering hand of greeting.

Kate lifted a hand to her mouth, trying not to choke on her tears. She dropped to her hands and knees, crawling the distance between them, "M-Milligan," she rested her head gently on his shoulder, but he still groaned, "Oh, Milligan, what's happened to you?"

"Only a few cuts, Katie-Cat…" he said stroking her head. "The Ten Men- McCracken in particular- got bored, or at least their muscles did, and they found a convenient punching bag at their disposal." He shrugged, "I've definitely had worse."

"But, S.Q. will notice when he sees you, won't he?" asked Kate, trying to inconspicuously wipe away her tears. She had missed her father so much.

"I'm afraid the Ten Men are smarter than that. They've left almost no marks on my face, you see, and have been careful to have me in long sleeves whenever I have to talk to S.Q," said Milligan with sigh.

"Why is he doing this? I thought he joined the good side!" Kate cried.

"You can already see he doesn't know the extent of what he's doing… I'll bet he thinks he's helping Mr. Curtain with his 'recuperation,' " Milligan said, concernedly. Kate had real tears in her eyes- something he rarely saw. She was so tough, it was usually nice to see a show of emotion from her, but this was unbearable, "Don't cry, Katie-Cat. We're going to be all right."

"I'm sorry," Kate hick-upped, swiping tears away. "I know you'll get us out of here, but it's just that… you're hurt again and S.Q. is being tricked again and the Ten Men are going to get away _again_. It just isn't fair, Milligan! Aren't they supposed to be in jail, anyway?"

"Yes, but they had connections we didn't know about. Some White House officials," he said.

"Then I suppose Mr. Curtain is out, too?" she asked, angrily.

Milligan smiled, "No, actually. But he has his ways of communicating what he wants done- and he can still pay handsomely for the work of the Ten Men- some treasure he's hidden, or other. He'll give them the location once he's wiped us out."

"Wiped us out?" asked Kate, sliding in to sit beside him.

"Yes. Or at least, I'm guessing that's what he wants. They captured us first, guessing that the Ten Men have _some_ say about what goes on, because you and I gave them the most trouble." He chuckled and tapped Kate on the nose, bringing a small smile to her lips. They sat quietly for a few minutes, Kate closing her eyes. She suddenly found that she was very tired. "Katy, listen to me. They're going to come and get you any second. They don't want us together. It was very clever of you to get S.Q. to walk with you and then give you the key, but you're going to have to pay for that. The Ten Men have full power here, and McCracken is in charge. I'll try to persuade them to let you stay in here-"

"By fighting them?" Kat asked and Milligan nodded, wonderingly. "It's all right. I'll take it- I guess it's my turn anyway. I mean, you can't have all the fun. And they won't go so hard on me, because I won't keep quiet like I know you did." Milligan looked surprised and Kate laughed suddenly.

"How do you know that?" he asked.

"Oh, come on. You're too prideful to admit that they actually hurt you." Kate rolled her eyes and Milligan pulled her into a hug.

"But so are you," He chucked.

"I learned from the best." She shrugged, just as the door opened.

~::~

Reynie lay in his bed, his heart hammering against his chest. He'd been sent to bed hours ago, but he couldn't sleep. After he had found the note, he had run upstairs to find Mr. Benedict, who had been awake in his study. The look on his face burned in Reynie's mind. He wasn't sure now if he had ever seen Mr. Benedict truly scared. After running into each of the children's rooms to make sure they were there, Mr. Benedict had collapsed on a chair and read the note through several times, his hand atop his head, fingers fumbling through the white mounds of hair.

Everyone had gathered around him and when Mr. Benedict had calmed down considerably, the note was passed from hand to hand.

Number Two gasped and passed the note to a very impatient Constance, "But, what does it mean, Nicholas?"

"As I'm sure you've realized, Kate has been abducted, Pencillia. I am afraid she is in very grave danger, as are we. Forgive me, my friends, for putting us in this place, once again," he said, meeting everyone's eyes. There was a general outcry at his words, everyone reassuring him at once that none of this was his fault. Mr. Benedict hushed them with his out-stretched hands, "Moocho is on the phone now with the police and I suspect they are already on their way, but before they come, you must know something. It is not Kate the men are after. They want Constance."

The room fell silent. Sticky voice broke the quiet, "Then… why take Kate?"

Mr. Benedict shook his head, "I'm afraid Milligan too is being held hostage. Kate's abduction was nothing but leverage- to get Milligan out of the way because they know now that he is her father. And that he'll go to all extents to protect her."

"That's terrible," moaned Sticky, who, like everyone else in the room, had always counted on Milligan to protect him. "We have to get them back."

Reynie nodded emphatically, putting a hand on Sticky's back, "And we will. Won't we?" Everyone murmured his consent as a weeping Mucho entered the room.

"Poor, Kate! The poor girl! And those men…" his face darkened, mustache bristling, "they are the very same ones that have hurt her before! Shouldn't they be behind bars for what they have done already?"

"They should," affirmed Mr. Benedict, nodding. "Fortunately, my brother will not be able to buy _his_ way out of jail. That much I know for certain. If he wants to get out, he'll have to escape."

A chill ran down everyone's spines at the thought. Mr. Curtain escape? That was the worst possible thought. Reynie hugged his knees and Ms. Perumal patted his arm uncertainly.

Constance slipped from her seat and climbed up into Mr. Benedict's arms, "But… why do they want me?"

Mr. Benedict looked close to tears now, but he cleared his throat, "My brother has finally realized the extent of your gifts, my dear. You see, it was hard for him to imagine that children were capable of anything more than simple thoughts and actions. We have proved to him, many times over, that that is certainly not the case. It took him a while to convince himself, but now that he has, he'll be attacking us in a whole different manner- he won't underestimate us, like he has done before."

"What will he do with me?" Constance asked flatly. Then she assumed a look concentration, getting the information directly from Mr. Benedict's mind.

"We will do all we can to prevent it, my dear, but…" Mr. Benedict said, cupping Constance's face, which was growing rosy with anger and fear.

"If that happens, what will happen?" she cried. "Please, tell me, Mr. Benedict."

"He will attempt to replace his machine," he said, plainly.

"The Whisperer?" asked Sticky, shuddering at the memory.

Mr. Benedict nodded, "He has figured out by now that I am cured of my narcolepsy. I'm afraid I couldn't stop laughing at something S.Q. said while I was visiting my brother. He knows I don't have the whisperer and has finally figured out what you can do, my dear," said Mr. Benedict, holding Constance close.

"You don't mean-?" started Rhonda, eyes wide.

Mr. Benedict sighed, "I'm afraid I do. Mr. Curtain has realized that he does not need a machine. He wants to use Constance as a human Whisperer."

~::~

Kate smiled up at McCracken, slipping her hands behind her like a prissy schoolgirl, "I was hoping I'd get my own room. Privacy, you know," she said casually, inwardly despairing at Milligan's condition on the other side of the door. McCracken had knocked him into the far wall, but Milligan had left a rather large bruise on his left cheek.

"I'm done with your games, Kate. It's time you took your punishment," he snarled.

Kate looked confused, "What have I ever done?" she asked, then took on a look of surprised comprehension, "Oh! Do you mean back at the island and jail? _I_ thought we were only playing!" she simpered, "I'm ever so sorry if I hurt you."

"It's a bit late for that," he growled, pushing her into a room marked with the iron number two.

Kate retreated to the far corner of the small room, which was almost exactly like Milligan's. Her eyes hardened, "Don't do anything stupid, McCracken. Your boss won't be happy with you."

"Oh, I won't. Not anything _he'll_ notice anyway. And to tell the truth," He said popping his knuckles, "he doesn't notice much."

Kate beamed at him, "Neither do you."

He loosened his tie, which snapped like a bill whip, "We're going to have some fun, _Katie-Cat_."

Kate froze, anger and tears welling up inside her. That was Milligan's nickname for her and now McCracken had tarnished it. She leapt at him, sinking her fingernails into his surprised expression. He soon recovered and sent her slamming into the far wall with a flick of his wrist. He stood, laughingly wiping blood from his face, "You're just like your daddy, aren't you, plucky?"

"Yes," she seethed, hissing between her teeth. Her ponytail came loose and Kate clamped the holder around wrist. Her head ached terribly and she put a hand to it, finding blood where it pounded

"Well, just like daddy, you're going to be taught a lesson," he said briskly. "And that was all too easy."

"Because he was tied up!" Kate yelled.

McCracken chortled, "He was. Now, I won't tie you up because your just too much fun- but only if you behave. Now listen, kitty, unless you want to find yourself chained to the wall tonight, you'll keep your voice down."

"Oh, yes, sir!" Kate said emphatically. She got to her feet, shakily raising her fists. McCracken laughed, mirroring her. "I have to say, you're pretty brave. I mean, facing a 14-year-old _girl_ all on your own." McCracken twitched, as if warding off an irksome fly. Kate smiled, thinking that if she couldn't win the physical fight, she at least win the mental one. "You know, I've been thinking, it's very rude of you to have known me for all this time and not even tell me your first name. So I've been making some up. You want to hear some of my ideas?" McCracken cracked a smile and then his whip, which left a shallow, stinging cut on Kate's shoulder. She stifled her cry and doubled over while McCracken set down his briefcase and started opening it. "My first thought," Kate said hastily, "was Big Fat Meany, but that seemed way too obvious." She shrugged, "So I moved on to something more subtle. Perhaps your name is just Dumb- just get it over with, you know. Or perhaps your name is simply Ten Men or Mr. Briefcase, which personally, I thought was pretty funny." She laughed to demonstrate this as McCracken pulled out a pencil. "But then, I realized I was yet again going in the wrong direction. I figured something out- I already know your name."

McCracken look surprised, ceasing in his malicious searching, "Oh, yeah? And what's that, Kitten?"

"You name is Bully. Regret. Pushy. Selfish. Your name is, simply stated, McCracken, couldn't mean anything less to me than it already does. Because your name is Evil," Kate spat, voice rising, "and I'll have no part in it."

McCracken looked a little ruffled, but smiled all the same, "Nope. Close though- it's James."

"Oh! Well, that makes sense, I guess," Said Kate, slapping her forehead. "Your parents didn't know you were going to be a well dressed jerk with double watches and a briefcase full of weapons, now did they? But, I do have a question: how is it that your last name suits you so well? Did you make it up? Because _that_ would make sense as well- it's a very stupid last name, you know."

"You're one to talk, _Wetherall,_ " he said.

Kate smiled, "Well, my name is good enough to have a namesake, isn't it? That proves something, anyway."

McCracken grunted, but made no reply except to crack his whip again. Kate avoided it this time, circling slowly toward the door. Kate had learned that the doors couldn't be unlocked from the inside. Her key was no use to her.

McCracken laughed, seeing her edge toward the door, "You won't be getting out that way, kitty. You see, Sharpe has orders to let me out when I'm finished with you and only then. No amount of pleading's going to persuade him to open it for you. I don't think he's forgotten what your daddy did the last time they met. He's rather…. Resentful, let's say."

"Oh, I'm not counting on Sharpe to let me out. I don't think he'll let you out either, seeing as he's probably unconscious by now."

McCracken's face fell, "And why would he be unconscious, kitten? Milligan can't get out the room, even if he does have your silly key. You see, you can only unlock them from the _outside._ But surely you've figured that out." His brow was furrowed now.

"Of course I have," said Kate with a small wink. "I'm just waiting to see if _you've_ figured it out." Kate and McCracken and switched places by now, just as Kate had planned.

"Let us test this, ducky," McCracken growled. He cleared his throat, "If you're out there, Milligan, please open the door… or ducky here will pay for it." He lifted a hand to his ear and blinked in mock surprise.

Kate only laughed, "You think he's going to open it for you? Not a chance."

McCracken lunged forward and gripped Kate's shoulders, far too tight, "You tell daddy to open the door then, little chick, and we'll get him out of the way."

"Never," Kate hissed.

"Tell me something, kitten, if daddy's really out there, why hasn't he come bursting in yet?" He chuckled, taking the pencil up and resting it against her face, "Something tells me you're lying, kitty…"

"I thought you weren't going to leave any noticeable marks?" Kate asked shakily.

"I did say that, didn't I? Well, I think your arm will be easy enough to carve, then." He moved the pencil to the top of her shoulder and Kate twisted away from him, screaming at the top of her lounges. McCracken flinched. He had never heard Kate scream before. "Quiet down, Kitten. You're giving old McCracken a headache."

Kate did not quiet down though. If anything she got louder. She backed up until McCracken stood right in front of the door then she yelled, "Milligan, now!"

The door flew open, hitting McCracken full in the face. He fell unconscious to the ground. Milligan slumped tiredly in the doorway, smiling all the same, "Forgive me, Kate, I didn't realize you'd unlocked the door for me. How'd you do that without McCracken noticing?" he asked as she hugged, with unusual gentleness.

"He was… rather distracted with our chatting. You know him," she said shrugging. "Plus, I've gotten rather good at slight of hand. I just can't believe you realized I'd leave the key for you!" She drew away and Milligan collected his dart gun and the Ten Men's briefcase, then locked McCracken inside. They moved down the hall together. Kate suddenly stopped, "What did you do with Sharpe? He was supposed to be outside the door."

Milligan chuckled, "He'll be spending the night in my room. I'm afraid he'll wake up with a rather severe headache. I had to knock him out with a leg from the table in there.

"So what do we do now?" Asked Kate.

"I was going to ask you that, Katie-Cat. You seem to be the one coming up with all the plans," said Milligan, eyes twinkling.

"Maybe you could fly us home? It is your plane, after all," said Kate slyly.

Milligan raised his eyebrows and when Kate explained, he laughed and said, "How convenient."

"Do you think it really could be yours, Milligan? Maybe you've just forgotten about it!" Exclaimed Kate excitedly.

"Perhaps," said Milligan thoughtfully. "Now, listen, Kate. I need you to find some place to hide. I'm going to talk to S.Q."

"No, Milligan, I'm not leaving you. And besides, S.Q. trusts _me_ and I doubt he'll even listen to you- he'll be too scared," Kate said laughing. "Let me talk to him, Milligan. Please," she said, clasping her hands together and poking out her bottom lip.

Eyeing her wearily, he sighed, "Alright, Kate, but I'm going in with you- just in case he's guarded. You've done enough fighting for one day. By the way, I heard your entire conversation with McCracken from outside the door. You were very vicious, my girl. You even had me intimidated." Kate beamed at him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Lies and Lapses

Kate knocked timidly on the door, which led into S.Q's sitting room.

"Uh, come in," he called uncertainly. Kate opened the door to find S.Q. scrambling to push empty food containers to the floor. He smiled at Kate and said, "Oh, hello, Kate. I was hoping you'd visit me! Why don't you have a seat?" He gestured to the place next to him, hastily brushing crumbs from the cushioned chair.

Kate sat, "S.Q, I wanted to talk to you."

"Yes, and we finally have time for that! Isn't it wonderful? We're all coming together at last to work for the greater good!" He said, beaming.

"That's just it, S.Q. We're not. My father and I just escaped McCracken and Sharpe. I didn't get away completely clean, though," Kate sighed; wincingly lifting the sleeve of her shirt, exposing the lash mark she had purposely received for this very reason. S.Q. stared. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell, you, pal, but you've been tricked. Again."

"But… But Mr. Curtain! He seemed so different!" S.Q. shouted. "I thought… I thought he'd changed…" His face grew hard, "He _has_ changed. I know he has. He's had loads of progress with his counselor! You're… you're just lying to me!" He stood angrily.

"S.Q., you know I think of you as my friend. I wouldn't lie to you! Just listen! Think about it- Do you really think I'd come here willingly when I expected Mr. Curtain?"

S.Q. put a hand to his head as if he were dizzy and sat down slowly, "No, I… I suppose not."

"So how do you think I got here?" She asked. He didn't respond, so Kate continued, "I was kidnapped. Again. Don't let them mislead you, S.Q. They're just taking advantage of you because you're so kind."

He buried his head in his clumsy hands, "You're right, Kate… What was I thinking?"

Kate patted his back uncertainly, "It's alright, S.Q."

He sat up suddenly, "Oh no, Kate! You should know that-!" He started, then abruptly fell silent, staring blankly at the far wall.

"What should I know, S.Q.?" Asked Kate waving her hand in front of his face.

S.Q.'s face darkened, "That I've changed." His breathing deepened, "You see, Kate, the world is a very dark place- full of lying people only looking out for their best interests. No one cares about you except you, but I have chosen to change that. To help the cause, to make our world a place of controlled reward, even if that implies fear." His voice was all wrong. There was something in his tone and the dazed look in his eyes that reminded Kate of Constance when she was detecting something.

"Well, I- I'm sorry to hear that, S.Q.," Kate stammered, backing away toward the door. "I was hoping you'd joined our side… I… Just know that I haven't given up on you. I'll be going now," she said.

S.Q. laughed, but it wasn't the loud cheerful, buoyant laugh she knew- it was the dark sinister chuckle that she knew Mr. Curtain by, "I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Miss Wetherall."

Kate gave him a sorry smile, "S.Q., it's not likely you'll be able to stop me. I honestly don't want to hurt you. Just let me go."

He clucked his tongue, "Don't you have enough sense to realize I'm not that blithering idiot anymore?"

Kate clenched and unclenched her jaw, rapidly. Yes, she knew that this person was not S.Q. Kate smiled viciously, "But you're an idiot _now,_ aren't you? Or… are you not Mr. Curtain?"

S.Q's face fell. His eyelids drooped. He was asleep. Kate smiled and tiptoed from the room, whispering, "Sweet dreams, Ladroptha." Closing the door quietly, she locked the door with the keys she slipped from S.Q.

Slipping out into the hall, Kate found Milligan just where she had left him- crouched behind the little fridge. He was, however, dressed in a completely different outfit. The watches, handkerchief, tie, and, of course, the briefcase made him look like a genuine Ten Man. Kate beamed at him, finding his ocean blue eyes beneath the rim of his sinister hat, "Any trouble?"

He stood, also smiling, "Not much. You?"

Kate shrugged, "I'll have to explain later, but I don' t think we'll have more than a few minutes to get out of here. Where'd you get the outfit? You frightening me to death!" But as soon as they rounded the corner, Kate didn't need an answer. A pile of Ten Men resided in the corner, one of which, who was close to Milligan's size, was at the bottom of the heap, dressed only his underclothes. On top of the pile, like a rosy red bow, a scarlet-faced Martina Crowe scowled at them. Kate laughed, "It's perfect! Only, I wish you'd put her at the bottom."

Milligan threw her a reproving look, "I am a gentleman, am I not? I wouldn't dare do that…" He laughed, tweaking Kate's chin, "But I won't say that I didn't considered it, Katie-Cat, for your sake. I couldn't get the picture of her threatening you out of my head."

Martina was tied up with several of the Ten Men's ties, one of which was rapped securely around her mouth. Kate patted her head and Martina's black eyes glinted dangerously. She looked like she wanted to bite Kate, which wasn't far from the truth. "If only I had my bucket…" Kate sighed, then winked at Milligan. "Well, we hate to leave you like this, but we'd better go, seeing as you're _all tied up_ at the moment _."_ She saluted to the unconscious men and gave Martina a friendly wave, "No hard feelings!" Milligan chuckled and tipped his hat before following his daughter from the room.

~: :~

Kate was beyond disappointed, "But, Milligan! Just think how wonderful it would have been if we had flown into Stonetown! The conquering heroes!" She blinked her eyes hopefully. They had just parachuted from the plane- a thrilling experience, in Kate's opinion and the completion of one of her life dreams. Calmly, they had called into the nearest police station and requested a car, which was immediately brought to them. The others back at the house had been alerted of their coming. _Wetherall Flights_ was to be intercepted by secret operatives in a matter of minutes.

Milligan reached across the van to tap Kate on the nose, "Sounds enticing, Kate, but I'm afraid I just couldn't risk it." He shrugged and Kate crossed her arms, scowling. "Please don't be angry with me, Katie-Cat, but I can't imagine putting you in danger again."

Kate melted immediately, "I'm not angry. Just disappointed. And that's actually something I wanted to talk to you about, Milligan. You're always so concerned about _me_ being in danger when _you_ put yourself in danger every day! I worry every bit as much as you worry about me! Now, I do understand that you have to go on your missions, but I think we should have more communication. I mean, you're _retired,_ Milligan, shouldn't you be around more? You have no idea how much I hate waking up and finding only a note…" She looked out the window to hide her expression.

They were both quiet. Finally Milligan said, "I'm sorry, Katy… I had no idea. I thought my mission days were over, but…. I can't help it when people ask for special services." He ran a hand threw his hair, and clamped his hat back on. "I guess I feel like I have to prove myself. You know, I _am_ capable of much more than house chores."

" _I_ know that, Milligan. We all do, actually. And I feel the same way. All the time," she sighed, slumping against her seat. "I almost feel like my talent is going to waste- but if you think about it, that's how everyone at the house feels. I mean, take Reynie, for instance. _He's_ using all his skill on making _birthday presents_. How do you think that feels? I don't think I know anyone as clever as he is- except for Mr. Benedict, of course. I don't even think Sticky equals half of him."

"You have a good point, Kate. And yes, Reynie and the others seem bored out of their minds. You and I are worse off though. They're patient- and I'm not saying we can't be- but it's just not our way. We have to do something or we'll just explode!" Both of them laughed at this truth.

"Yes. I'm sitting there listening to Constance compose yet _another_ poem and Sticky reading and Reynie playing chess with Mr. Benedict, who must feel just like he does. I mean, I adore school and our lessons with Rhonda, but what will I do without school? More dishes?" Kate exchanged overdone looks of doom with her father. She suddenly laughed, "The only one who's really comfortable is Moocho!"

"I think you're right! We ought to think up something for us to work on. All together," said Milligan. Kate was smiling sleepily. The sun was just coming up, "But for right now, Katie-Cat, just go to sleep…"

"No, I…" she cut herself off with a yawn, "I don't want you to fall asleep at the wheel. I'll stay awake until we get home…"

Milligan laughed, reaching into the back and finding a blanket, "Go to sleep," He said in gentle demand.

Kate caught his hand and pressed it against her cheek as she closed her eyes, "Wake me if anything exciting happens…"

Milligan withdrew his hand gently, whispering, "I wouldn't dare do otherwise."

~: :~

Reynie was literally jumping up and down. Kate and Milligan were safe! They were coming home! He had been the one to answer the phone and had never been so afraid. The man asked to speak to Mr. Benedict and sounded very concerned and very official. Reynie had thought the worst. But they were safe. They were safe. _She was safe…_

Reynie shook his head, trying to rid himself of the odd feeling in his stomach. Constance rounded the corner and Reynie switched to think in Tamil- this had now become a habit. Constance glared at him. He smiled, saying, "I'm so glad they're alright, aren't you, Constance?"

"Well of course. But I can't know if _you_ are. I don't speak Tamil. I tried to get Sticky to translate, but it didn't work out."

Reynie grinned, "Well, thoughts are supposed to private, Constance. I'm sure he didn't want to intrude on me."

"What? You think I actually _asked_ him?" she asked, eyes wide. "No, no. I just tried to put _your_ thoughts in _his_ mind, hoping he would translate them automatically. But I guess got the words jumbled up." She didn't look too disappointed and Reynie had the distinct feeling something uncomfortable was about to happen. Constance's eyes glinted, "I did pick up on one thing, though. You tend to think about Kate a lot, Reynie- or at least her name…" She smiled menacingly.

Reynie shifted, under the pressure of her eyes, "Well, of course I have. She was missing!"

"No, it started before then. And even during that time you thought about her more than anyone else."

"Constance, why don't you get sick anymore? I mean, when you read people's minds?" Asked Reynie with interest.

Constance only scowled, "Don't try and get out of this. If you do, I'll ask Rhonda to help me figure it out. I think she'll be interested in it. If that doesn't work, I'll try Sticky- or better yet, Kate herself." Reynie sighed, scratching his head, trying to get out of the situation. "Yes!" said Constance with triumph and Reynie couldn't help but smile at her. He had just made the decision to trust her and apparently, she'd read that in his expression.

"I'll admit, it'll be a relief not to think in Tamil anymore. It's rather wearing…" He sat down and Constance sat eagerly across from him. "First, no one can know about this. Promise not to tell?"

"I promise, Reynie," she said, her eyes excited.

"I guess I wanted to tell you, anyway. Or, to tell someone at least," he sighed, sorting out his thoughts in Tamil. "I don't quite know how I feel myself, but I definitely feel something more for Kate than…" He blushed up to his ears, "than, you know, just friendship." He braced himself, but Constance did not taunt him.

"And she feels something for you, Reynie," Constance said quietly. He looked up at this and Constance smiled with a rather guilty expression, "She's not so careful with her thoughts. You know, sometimes I can't help it, Reynie. I just… know what you all are thinking without trying. And I don't get sick anymore because my mind is getting stronger- or that's what Mr. Benedict says anyway." She shrugged.

"And… What about-?" Reynie started.

"Sticky?" Constance asked and Reynie nodded, blushing. "No, he does like Kate- as more than a friend, anyway. But he's simply nuts for me," Constance said, rolling her eyes. Reynie laughed at her joke. He had always had the suspicion that Constance rather liked Sticky- but had a funny way of showing it. She sighed, reading his thoughts, "I guess I _could_ be a bit kinder to him, couldn't I?"

"Just a bit," Reynie conceded. Someone called from the front room and they both stood with a start then laughed at their nervousness. Before he moved away, Constance wrapped her arms around his waist, "What's this for?" he asked, hugging her back gently.

"For sharing with me, Reynie. For letting me in when you didn't have to. Thank you…" She pulled away and scurried from the room without looking back. Reynie smiled after her, thinking that she wasn't half the pest everyone seemed to think she was.

~::~

Everyone stood outside the house, waiting for Kate and Milligan. Reynie half expected them not show up. He paced around the yard and watched Sticky rub his polishing cloth, which he still kept on his person even though he did have glasses anymore. Constance sat in the grass with Mr. Benedict, picking the tops off pretty weeds.

Finally she sat up straight and walked over to Reynie's side, "They're here." She had barely spoken before they heard the distant rumbling of a car.

Milligan had just enough time to apply the breaks before Kate leapt out of the car. Her hair flew out behind her, a grin in her bright blue eyes. She knocked Sticky to the ground with the force of her hug and left Constance panting dramatically in heap. Reynie opened his arms wide and she flew to him, but he braced himself, and stood the collision. She paused long enough to give him a special grin and moved on to Rhonda and Number Two, who hugged her with sighs of relief. Milligan tousled Reynie's hair with a chuckle and stood by him as the others turned to meet Milligan as well.

"But how did you guys get away?" Asked Sticky.

"I'll tell you all about it in a bit. Right now I need some pie!" Kate said, looking hopefully at Moocho.

He smiled, "They're almost done. Just need a few minutes to cool," he said and Kate hugged him again.

They all went inside chattering happily. Once they all had a heaping slice of pie, they sat down in the crowded kitchen and Milligan turned to Kate, saying, "I think you have the right to tell this story, Katie-Cat."

She smiled at him, "You've got to help me, though- I wasn't there for all of it." She rushed on, "So I was asleep- well actually, not quite, but I was getting there. And then, through the window, I saw this shape-"

"Um, Kate?" Sticky said hesitantly, "There's no window in your room. How is that possible?"

Kate blushed and Milligan chuckled, "I accidently fell asleep in Milligan's room, I guess. Anyway…" And this how she carried on, telling about her capture and escape with many interruptions from her audience. They talked through second helpings of pie until Kate came to the part where she talked to S.Q. Milligan had his arm protectively around her now, "And this is the part I wanted to you about, Mr. Benedict. Is it possible that S.Q. _was_ Mr. Curtain?"

"How do you mean, Kate?" Asked Mr. Benedict, brow furrowed.

"Well," Kate cocked her head thinking, "S.Q. didn't sound like himself- I mean, it _was_ his voice, but not his tone or words. He asked why I couldn't tell he wasn't that "idiot" anymore. And I told him that now that he was Mr. Curtain, he was the idiot and he fell asleep! Just like that!" Kate snapped her fingers, bringing a sleepy Constance up with a start. "Just as prone to anger as ever," she chortled. "Oh, yeah! And S.Q. was just about to warn me before he changed. And I don't think he was acting. It was too real."

"My brother has found that he is capable of communing his thoughts through another person. This is only possible through the use of a naive- or extremely willing- mind. And I believe he has found both in S.Q." Mr. Benedict shook his head sadly. "Poor S.Q… Did he appear tired at all?"

Milligan answered, "Yes, even when I got there he was extremely droopy. I suspect that's why they kept him eating all the time- to stay subdued."

"Yes, you are probably right, my friend. What he has done to S.Q. is similar to what he intends to do our dear Constance," Mr. Benedict said tiredly.

Reynie, who was sitting near Constance, put an arm around her, "And we'll do everything we can to prevent that from happening," he said with conviction and Constance looked up at him gratefully, reading the truth of what he said in his expression.

"Yes, we will!" Kate exclaimed, coming around Constance's other side and clamping her arm painfully around her back, nearly crushing Reynie's elbow. All three of them looked expectantly at Sticky.

"Aren't you going to say anything comforting, George Washington?" asked Constance, but for once, she smiled kindly, letting him know that she was teasing.

Sticky ducked shyly and paced across the room to join them. He sat on Reynie's other side and took Constance's hand with unusual confidence, "I won't let anything happen to you." Constance blushed rose red and everyone laughed- except Reynie who grimaced and tried not to catch Constance's eye.

The grown-ups yawned and stretched and went off to bed, allowing the children, for once, to stay up as late as they liked. Constance drooped, leaning against Reynie's shoulder. He brushed aside her wispy blonde hair, smiling, "I guess we ought to get her to bed."

"I've got it!" Kate started, but Sticky waved her back into her seat.

"You've done enough today, Kate. I'll take care of it," he said, scooping Constance up into his arms and moving off into the hall.

"Thanks, pal!" Kate called after him. Kate fidgeted (a usual pastime for Kate) and bounced up and down in her seat, "I don't know how I'm going to fall asleep tonight! I just have so much energy!"

Reynie laughed, "Would talking help burn it off? I don't know that I'm up to much more." He yawned, proving his point.

"Yeah, I guess," Kate shrugged sinking to the floor. Reynie mirrored her and they both sat cross-legged, facing each other, "Did I tell you about the present Milligan gave me this afternoon?' She asked, eyes sparkling.

"You mean tying up Martina? I can't say I'm not jealous. I would have loved to see that," Reynie said, pretending to look wistful.

Kate cracked up, "That was amazing, but no. It's this," she said and lifted a string from around her neck. On the end of the silver chain, hung a heavy heart pendent. It flashed in the light.

Reynie lifted it in his hands. It was surprising weighty, "It's lovely… but how is it useful?" He raised his eyebrows. He knew that everything that Kate carried in her fire-engine-red bucket was useful- there was nothing extraneous on her person.

Kate positively beamed, "Reynie, you know me too well." She clicked the heart open, revealing a double mirror, "It's to see around corners- that's why the chain's so long- you know, so I don't have to take it off? I can just hold it out in front of me," she explained happily and tucked the pendent back into her tee shirt.

"Another tool in disguise. Very clever," he said. He was referring to the kaleidoscope/telescope that she carried in her bucket.

Kate smiled, "Yup. And just in time, too. I think people were catching on."

Sticky rounded the corner, looking like he'd been caught in a tussle and lost. His shirt was askew and his cheeks were bright red, 'She just… keeps getting… heavier… I don't know… how you do that… Kate," he collapsed on the couch, out of breath as the Reynie and Kate laughed. Once he had recovered sufficiently, Sticky slid down to sit with the other two, "You know, I've been thinking," he started seriously.

"You always are, aren't you, pal?" Asked Kate, clapping a hand on his back.

He studied her face a moment then smiled, apparently deciding that she had been joking, "Yes. Well, I was wondering if we ought to start a patrol of sorts. You know, so nothing bad happens again. We'll include Constance so she doesn't feel singled out, but-"

"She probably won't agree," laughed Kate and Sticky nodded, acknowledging this.

"I don't know about that," Reynie said, feeling that he should come to Constance's rescue, even if she wasn't present. "She's grown up quite a bit. We'll ask her about it next time we meet."

Sticky looked incredulous, but Kate patted Reynie on the shoulder, "Always the nice one, Reynie. What would we do without you?" She asked. Reynie blushed deeply and looked away. She bumped her shoulder playfully against his, "Always so modest! Look at you! You're beat red!" She held her stomach and laughed and soon Sticky gave into joining her, though he tried to hide his amusement. Reynie only shook his head with an uncertain smile, not used to the embarrassment.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Sentry Secrets

The Mysterious Benedict Society met in Reynie's room that morning. Constance was still sticky with syrup she'd eaten at breakfast and was doing her best to lick her chin. She sat in one corner, looking rather cross-eyed, while the rest plopped down in their usual circle.

"Sticky has some important business he'd like to share with us today," Reynie announced as Kate fidgeted.

Finally she sighed and started straightening Reynie's pillows, which were slightly askew. She then proceeded to lean back and peer up at the fan. She clucked her tongue, "Why, Reynie Muldoon! I've never seen so much dust in my life!" She hopped up on a chair, standing tiptoed to inspect the dirtiness of the fan further. "May I barrow your polishing cloth, Sticky?" Sticky withdrew and gave it to her, "Thanks," she said, wiping the fan free of dust, "Oh and you can go ahead. I'm listening."

Sticky nodded and began, all three of them watching Kate keep her balance, "I think we should keep a guard, of sorts for-"

"My protection, I know," Constance said and rolled her eyes. "You are not very good at hiding your thoughts, George Washington."

Sticky glared at Constance, but addressed Reynie, "I'm tired at of her… You explain." Constance crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue.

 _You have a funny way of showing your feelings_ Reynie thought back to the night he had shared _his_ feelings with Constance and hoped she would pick up on what he was saying (Or thinking, rather). She must have because she shifted her glare to Reynie who smiled sheepishly and nodded his consent to Sticky, "Sure. Um, we were just thinking that if we started a nightly patrol, it would ease everyone's fears- I mean, the grown-ups' anyway- and it would give us something to do," He looked significantly at Kate. 'We'll guard in pairs: Sticky with-" He started.

"I am not pairing with Kate!" Constance announced, reading Reynie's thoughts. He sighed tiredly and Constance glowered, "I can't help it, Reynie! Sometimes I just _know_ what you're thinking without trying!"

"Yes, but you don't have to blurt it out!" Kate said. Constance pursed her lips and huffed. "Go on, Reynie."

"Thank you. I was going to say, Sticky with me and Kate with Constance, but that's just a suggestion. I'm fine if you would like to pair differently, Constance," said Reynie, gently trying to draw Constance to a better mood.

Kate looked imploringly at Reynie, "Can't I pair up with one of you fellows?" she asked.

Reynie blushed, "Of course- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like it was already decided or anything, it's that-"

"Good grief, Reynie! Will you _please_ stop being so hard on yourself?" Kate laughed.

Reynie smiled shyly, "Yeah… sorry. So who do you want to pair with?" He asked her and then immediately regretted it. Now she had to make the conscious decision of which she liked spending time with better.

But Kate laughed in her way, "I don't care! Though you _are_ better with…" She glanced at Constance, who was moodily picking at something on her arm. "Who do you want to pair with, Constance?"

She didn't look up, "George Washington will let me sleep through it, so I guess I pick him," She sighed, standing up and exiting the room.

Sticky shrugged, "I don't mind." He lowered his voice, "And I think I _will_ let her sleep while I catch up on a book or two. Besides, you two get along the best," he said and stood up to leave also.

Reynie couldn't help but smile at what Sticky had said. He and Kate _did_ get along well. She bumped her shoulder with his, "He's right you know, Reynie. We make a good team," she flashed a smile and followed after the other two. Reynie stayed behind to control the grin spreading over his face.

~::~

Guard duty started that night. Reynie crept from his room, heart racing. He was about spend hours with Kate alone- something he'd never done (except for once, on a silo on an island he very much wanted to forget). He hadn't planned for things to go like this- they simply had, with a little help from Constance, anyway. Reynie didn't know how he was going to handle the situation, but was enthusiastic about it nonetheless.

Expertly skipping all the floorboards that groaned, Reynie made his way to the staircase. He stood at the top, waiting. After a few moments he checked his watch with a frown. Twenty minutes after eleven. Kate was late, which was very unlike her. Usually she was extraordinarily punctual, actually. Reynie decided to check her room, wondering if she'd fallen asleep.

He set his foot on the first step down and immediately found it caught in a strong arm that shot out of the dark to grab his ankle. Reynie almost yelled with surprise and sat down hard. Kate giggled, shining her flashlight from beneath her chin, casting her face in a creepy shadow. She climbed silently from her place, hanging from the outside of the staircase, "Took you long enough," she laughed. She set down a basket, "I was going to start making creepy sounds and see if you would move."

"I'm sure glad you didn't. You almost gave me heart attack as it is!" Reynie proclaimed in a whisper. "What's in the basket?"

"A midnight snack. What else?" Kate shrugged, then bit her lip, "It's not quite midnight… Maybe we should wait?" She asked Reynie uncertainly.

"Yeah, let's save it. Got any of Moocho's pie in there?" He asked hopefully.

"No such luck. But I _do_ have the chocolates Milligan bought me- I think he's trying to buy my trust back with all these gifts," Said Kate, shaking her head.

Reynie chuckled, "Is it working?" Inside he wondered how Milligan had lost Kate's trust in the first place.

"Maybe," Kate said with a sly smile. "I've also got some tea- for you, of course- and some hot chocolate for me. Oh, and a few rolls of sweet bread! _Moocho's_ sweet bread!"

Reynie bit his lip, "I don't know if I can wait until midnight, after all," he said, throwing a longing look at the basket.

Kate laughed sparklingly, "Reynie! You should be ashamed of yourself! Though, I must admit, my mouth _is_ watering- but I've never had a midnight snack exactly at midnight and I'm _not_ going to blow my chance."

"Well, have you brought anything to pass the time?" Reynie said, trying slip his hand in the basket, but Kate, of course, batted it away immediately.

"How's checkers sound? I know you're above it, but I'm no good at chess," Kate said and Reynie nodded his approval.

"I'm not above checkers, but if you bring a chess board, I'll be glad to teach all my secrets. It's a one time offer, mind you," He said, grinning.

"I'll bring it next time we're on watch, but for now, let's play checkers. I bet I can even capture one of your pieces!" She exclaimed with false enthusiasm.

"Don't worry, I'll go easy on you," He said laughing at her deadly eyes.

"Don't you dare. You know I _despise_ special treatment," She said, glaring playfully.

"Alright, then, Wetherall, you asked for it."

Reynie played with the black pieces and Kate with red. Within a few minutes, all his pieces were kinged and more than half of Kate's pieces were captured. Kate scowled, "Well maybe you could play a _little_ easy on me," she said, scratching her head over her next move.

"But I _have_ been," Reynie said, pretending to look startled.

Kate shook her head in disbelief, "Oh, please. You're such a show off," Kate said moving a piece and immediately seeing it captured. "You'd think I'd be good at this game- you know, since I'm good with getaways and stuff." She timidly pushed another piece forward.

"You would be. If you weren't playing against me," Reynie said, skipping over three of her pieces and collecting them with a grin. "Give up yet?"

"I'm no quitter," Kate muttered. Then her eyes lit up as she took one of Reynie's pieces. She looked up about to gloat, but scowled at Reynie's expression, "You let me have that one on purpose!"

"What?" Reynie said absently, taking her remaining pieces. He laughed as Kate threw him and the board dark looks and put it away. He leaned back, "I think it's about midnight." He checked his watch, "A minute till. Let's at least set it up- you know, like a picnic."

Kate laughed, already over her defeat, "I'm way ahead of you," she said and with a flourish, removed a checked blanket and lantern. She spread out the cloth and set the basket atop it. Once she had the food set out in an orderly fashion, she lit the lantern and put it on top of the basket. She accomplished all this in about twenty seconds. Reynie loved to watch her when she was like this- so fast, yet so capable.

"It's perfect." He said and Kate took a bow. They watched the seconds on his watch tick away and dug laughingly into their banquet. Reynie lay back on his elbows, idly sipping his tea, "Was it scary?" He asked, staring into the darkness of the descending stairs. "You know, facing McCracken by yourself?"

Kate sighed, leaning back on her elbows also, "Well, of course it was. It's so different on your own. When there's no chance of someone stepping in for you…. But there's something else, too: something strangely satisfying about coming up with my own plan and then having work out. But, you must feel like that all the time."

Reynie shook his head, "My plans seldom work out… Kate, imagine that your plan had gone wrong. That Milligan had gotten hurt because of something you didn't consider. _That's_ how I feel most of the time."

Her eyes widened, "Reynie, that's awful. But you know, you shouldn't feel like that- Like I've said before, it's not just your responsibility. But I do know what you mean, you _are_ the one who comes up with the plans- the plans that save us," she said gently- very unlike Kate.

"I'm not looking for praise…" Reynie said, ears pink.

"But you deserve it, Reynie Muldoon, and if I want to give you praise, you'd better take it gratefully!" She declared, playfully swatting his shoulder. "I owe you my life- many times over. Everyone does."

"Just like I owe you mine, Kate," Reynie pointed out. "We all owe each other our lives- which kind of cancels out our debts." Suddenly, Reynie laughed, "But I don't think I'll ever be able to repay my debt to Milligan. He's saved us countless times- and from _horrible_ deaths. You're actually the only one who's ever saved _his_ life. Not only by getting him out of the hands of the Ten Men, but also by bringing back his memory. By being yourself."

"Good grief, Reynie! You're making me blush!" Kate said, putting her hands to her pink cheeks.

Reynie laughed, "Good. Now, I say we have those chocolates."

"Sounds good to me," Kate said, lifting a fat container from the basket. It was full of an assortment of chocolates. Having no grown-ups to hinder them, they simply stuffed themselves.

Kate sighed contently, "How much longer is the watch?" She sighed.

"Two more hours. Constance and Sticky will trade with us around three," Reynie said, consulting his wristwatch.

"Too bad. This is fun. When's our next watch?" She asked off-handedly gathering up papers from the chocolates.

Reynie's eyes shone excitedly. She was enjoying herself! He forced his voice to a calm, "About a week. The grown-ups won't want us staying up too late every night. Rhonda and Milligan will be watching tomorrow. Then Mr. Benedict and Number Two- Milligan put the schedule together, I think."

Kate suddenly looked up from her work, "Hey, Reynie, I _am_ watching with you next time, right?" she asked.

"Well, next week's schedule isn't made up yet, but if you'd rather partner with someone else, I would understand-" He started, looking away.

"But I _want_ to pair up with you, Reynie!" Kate laughed.

"You do?" He asked. Then blushed deeply at the hope in his voice.

"No, I'd rather spend my whole night with Constance," Kate rolled her eyes and Reynie laughed uncertainly. "If you think about it," Kate said, pretzeling up her legs, "You're my best choice."

"Why?" Asked Reynie, honestly curious.

Kate sighed, "If I pair with Constance, she'll go to sleep. If I pair with Sticky, he'll read the whole time. Rhonda will want to talk about _girl stuff_ -" Kate shivered and Reynie laughed, "and so will Number Two- and anyway, I bet she gets _really_ grumpy at night. Moocho or Milligan will let _me_ fall asleep, but I guess Milligan would be my next choice. And Mr. Benedict…" She trailed off, thinking, "Well, you know, Reynie, you have a way with adults that I don't. _You_ may be able to spend the afternoon in his office playing chess with easy conversation, but _I_ would find it perfectly awkward," She finished. "So you see? You're my best choice."

"Well, when you put it that way," Reynie said, "I guess I am a suitable last resort." He smiled and Kate, of course, knew he was kidding. "And I guess, that makes you _my_ best choice. "

"Like I said," Kate confirmed, "We make a good team." She turned and rested her back against Reynie's. They chatted idly every now and then, to keep the other awake, but mostly strayed to their own reflections. About five minutes more lasted in their watch and Kate began picking up the blanket and lantern, "You know, Reynie? This was a really good idea."

Reynie grinned, "Why, thank you. But you gave me the idea- you should get some of the credit."

"Me? How?" Asked Kate.

"By getting kidnapped. But don't ever do that again, okay?" He asked, voice breaking a little.

Kate smiled sweetly, "Reynie… you weren't worried about me, were you?"

Reynie only looked at her. Her face grew curious and Reynie tried to smile to cover up his silence and said, "If you ever get kidnapped again, just invite me to come. Okay?" He looked down.

Kate laughed, wrapping her arms around him in a too-tight hug, "Okay, Reynie, I promise," she said, grinning and backed away. "I just can't believe how worried you were- Look at your face!" She giggled in a whisper. Constance and Sticky came around the corner. Reynie blushed deeper at the almost triumphant look on Constance's face as she passed him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

A Flaw in The Plan

The weeks passed into July. The guard continued. Kate thought up new things to bring along every night, finding herself restless in her bed when she wasn't on watch with Reynie. She caught herself thinking about him often. In a few weeks, he'd be the same age as she was, which oddly pleased her- to have yet another thing in common.

At Milligan's urging, Kate took up sketching- something she'd wanted to try since she'd helped Reynie correct his drawing of the bridge at the Institute. That seemed ages ago now. She sat with him now, giggling over the poses he chose as she attempted to sketch him. She still had a lot of trouble with faces, but was mostly satisfied by the result. It was hard for Kate to sit still most of the time, but found it more bearable with Reynie, who distracted her so easily.

"Can I see it now? Please?" Asked Reynie for the umpteenth time that night.

Kate scowled at him over the top of her sketchbook. "Stop being so impatient. You sound like Constance. I'm almost done."

Reynie groaned, "You've been saying that for an hour."

"I just keep thinking of different things to add!" Kate shrugged, moving her pencil with quick, sharp movements. "I guess I should color in the floor boards…" Kate mumbled almost to herself.

"Kate. I can't feel my legs; I've been sitting here so long. Please hurry!" Said Reynie, and though he was mostly kidding, it _was_ very uncomfortable to sit without moving for almost two hours and he was feeling very stiff.

"Okay… almost," Kate said, scrawling one last item, "there!" she said triumphantly.

Reynie relaxed, "Finally!" He let himself collapse on the floor.

Kate laughed, "Don't you want to see it?"

"Yes," said Reynie hastily getting up. He reached for the notebook, but Kate drew her arm back, suddenly reluctant.

"You know, maybe it needs a few more-" she started, but Reynie interrupted her.

"Kate, please? I don't care if I look like a gnome- I just want to see it!" He pleaded.

"Fine," Kate said, handing him the book.

Reynie stared- it was like looking at a black and white photograph of himself, although there was something decidedly cartoon about the picture. The only thing askew was his face- his features not so average as he knew them to be. "Kate, it's wonderful! You're really getting good."

"You really think so?" Kate asked, beaming. "I've been practicing every night. I think I have a picture of everyone in there now," she said, flipping back a page. Constance, Sticky, Rhonda, Milligan, Moocho, Mr. and Mrs. Washington (from memory), Number Two, Mr. Benedict, even Madge. Every member of the household was etched into the book- everyone except Kate. "For some reason, I can't draw myself quite right," Kate, said, flipping to a couple attempts. Reynie saw what she meant. The Kate in these pictures was similar to the girl before him, but something was off.

"Hm," Reynie said, agreeing with her last statement. "But you almost have it- just keep trying. I think your problem is that you can't capture your cheerfulness- it's really what makes you who you are."

Kate looked at him for a moment. Then smiled, "Reynie Muldoon, that may have been the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me."

Reynie blushed so deeply, the tips of his ears burned, "Well, I was criticizing your work. You can't have had many good things said to you if that was the nicest," He said, trying to cover his pleasure.

"Reynie, did you ever write that book? You know, for Mr. Benedict's birthday?" She asked.

"Yeah," said Reynie, taken aback from the sudden change in topic. "I'm afraid it's not as good as it should be."

"Good grief, Reynie, would you quit being so modest? Have a little pride in your work!" Kate scolded him. "I've been planning everything else with Milligan. We're inviting lots of his friends- Captain Noland and Cannonball, obviously. And then John and Violet- uh-Cole, I think it was, and their son. He knew them when he was little, I guess," said Kate, then laughed. "It's weird, isn't it? To think of Mr. Benedict as little?"

It wasn't so weird for Reynie, who knew Mr. Benedict's childhood pretty well. He'd heard stories of young Nicholas's adventures and had even recognized John and Violet's names. But he answered Kate with, "Yeah… It's hard to imagine he didn't always have white hair and spectacles."

Kate giggled, "He'd sure be an odd-looking kid if he did." They laughed at that just as Constance appeared around the corner.

She stumbled to a sleepy stop and mumbled a greeting. Reynie smiled, "Where's Sticky?"

"George switched with Milligan," Constance slurred, already lying down to sleep.

Kate's father appeared right then, "Yes, I did," Milligan said. "He wanted to catch up on his sleep- he's been up reading for the last few nights," he smiled, but Reynie thought there was something almost forced in it.

Before he could think about it, Kate slid down the banister into the dark and Reynie was sent to his own room with a lot of things on his mind.

~::~

Kate woke up in her own bed, which made her smile as it always did because it meant that Milligan was home and safe. Jumping out of bed, Kate pulled a string on Madge's cage, which dumped a bowl-full of fresh food into the bird's miniature trough. After checking that Madge had sufficient water, Kate scampered to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash up for the day. She checked a clock on the wall- quarter after six. After strapping on her bucket, Kate sat down to her desk and started to draw. She'd have to wait for the others to get up. Usually, Milligan would be awake by this time and Mr. Benedict probably already was, not to mention Number Two, who was seldom asleep, but Kate didn't particularly like the idea of eating breakfast alone with the adults.

After sketching Madge in a portrait she labeled _Enjoying Her Breakfast,_ Kate unlatched the door to the falcon's cage and snuck into Milligan's room to open the window for her and hopefully wake her father at the same time.

Milligan was already awake (This was to Kate's slight displeasure-she enjoyed pouncing people awake) and was sitting on the edge of his bed, loading his tranquilizer gun and reorganizing his utility belt. Kate's spirits fell, but she kept her face uplifted, "Going out on a mission?"

"I'm afraid so, Katie-Cat," Milligan told her, his eyes almost as sad as they used to be. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright, I know it's important to you," Kate said, ushering Madge out the window for her morning flight.

Milligan looked on the verge of saying something, but didn't. Then he forced a smile, "I'll stay for breakfast though. Moocho's promised waffles." He wriggled his eyebrows.

Kate did her best to smile, "Then what are we waiting for?" They walked up stairs together, Kate trying to be her usual chatty self, but she knew Milligan could see right through her. Kate only ate one waffle at breakfast and only smiled when the others when they came as opposed to her usual warm (and unintentionally rough) greetings. Reynie dropped into the seat next to her, still drowsy. Kate couldn't help but laugh when he tried to shake salt from the butter tin. He put it down with surprise and took the saltshaker sheepishly from Kate, who couldn't stay in a bad mood very long.

When breakfast was over, Milligan shook hands all around and hugged Kate close to him and planted a kiss on her head, then tweaked her chin, "I'll be home real soon, Kate."

"Be careful," Kate whispered, throwing her arms around him again and wishing she didn't have to let go. But she did let go, and stepped back from Milligan with one parting squeeze of his hand before he was gone.

Kate went to her room like she always did when Milligan left and hid her tears in the hot water of a shower. Then she dressed, retied her ponytail, still damp, and strapped her bucket into place. A quiet knock sounded on her door and she opened it with what she hoped was a convincing smile. Reynie stood outside, face a little pale and drawn, but smiling.

"What's the matter, Reynie? You look awful." she said, the pretence of happiness quickly draining from her expression.

He considered, then shrugged, "I'll tell you later. You okay?"

"Yeah," Kate said, deflating considerably. She didn't have to pretend around Reynie. She drew her door wider open and he followed her in. He sat on the bed and Kate hopped up on the wide frame at the edge of it, balancing on it like a gymnast on a beam. Reynie watched her with his usual awe and waited. If Kate wanted to talk, she would need no urging. She stopped in mid step. "Reynie, do you think Milligan wanted a daughter?"

Reynie looked at her. "Kate, you know he missed you after he lost his memory, even if he didn't remember you. And I know that now that he has you, he wouldn't trade you for anything."

"Yeah, yeah," Kate said dismissively and dropped gracefully beside him. "I know he loves me. But do you think he ever… regrets me?"

Reynie gave her a stern look, "Of course not. Don't think that way, Kate. But sometimes I do wonder whether Amma wishes she didn't feel so responsible for me- that she felt obligated to adopt me because everyone else got someone. "

"Reynie, that's not-" Kate started, but stopped reproachfully at his sly grin. "Okay, I get your point. But I'm the only thing that keeps him from enjoying himself on missions."

Reynie looked at her for a moment with an odd expression. He looked away when he said, "No, Kate…You're the only thing that brings him home. Don't you remember? The way he used to be?"

Kate sighed, "Of course… and I know you're right. I just wish he didn't leave…" She paused thinking. "You know he kind of looked like that this morning- I mean, the way he used to. So desperately sad… like he had nothing."

Reynie stiffened. So he wasn't the only one who'd noticed that. He knew something was wrong. Something was off- he just couldn't tell what yet. He stood up and began to pace.

"What's up with you, Reynie? You're white as a sheet," Kate said, watching him with worried eyes.

"I'm not sure… I'm trying to figure some things out," Reynie said with a weak smile.

"Well, I might have known that- you're pacing, like you do," said Kate with a sparkle in her eyes. Reynie grinned and determinedly stopped walking. Kate laughed. "So what are you trying to figure out?"

Reynie let his eyes drift. His feet moved absently to pacing again. Kate stifled a giggle. Reynie sat resolutely. "I'll let you know when I figure out what I'm…well, what I'm trying to figure out, I guess."

"Ah," said Kate. "Because that makes perfect sense." She leapt from the bed and landed squarely on her hands, toes pointed toward the ceiling. She crossed her eyes at Reynie and he chuckled. She righted herself gracefully. Reynie studied her. She was fifteen now and had positively bloomed into a young woman- her ocean blue eyes shown with energy and her hair (even in a ponytail) stretched down her back. Beautiful was not quite the right word for Kate though- she was… A bright spot, unique and glowing: she was pleasant and elegant. She was simply pretty. She suddenly smiled at him, setting her face of in appreciation, "Thanks for checking on me, Reynie. It was really sweet of you."

Reynie reddened to the approximate color of a pomegranate, but tried to salvage some dignity with a smile, "Sure. You would have done the same for me."

"Ugh, I've got to get out of this house- I feel trapped!" Kate said, steering away from the subject.

"Would a walk help?" Reynie asked, laughing at Kate's demonstration of restlessness (She was tumbling in closed off cartwheels- it was miracle that she didn't whack her head or feet on the furniture).

"Yes!" Kate exclaimed, springing from a summersault. "I'll go get permission," she said and disappeared through her door.

Before Reynie made it to the top of the stairs, Kate was back with permission, shoes for both of them, and a pair of apples for a snack. It was obvious she wasn't going to invite the "younger" kids. Reynie assumed she had forgotten. The truth was that Kate liked being alone with Reynie- he listened to her and right now, she had a lot to say.

They walked out of the house, chattering happily. It was hot out, which bothered neither of them- it'd been a cold winter and spring. The summer was a warm reprieve. They soon became quiet. Reynie glanced at Kate. "There's something you want to tell me." It wasn't a question.

Kate laughed. "Yeah. I don't think I'll get over that Reynie- you know me so impossibly well…. It's not really something I want to tell you in particular, it's just that I need to tell someone, and you… understand me best, besides Milligan."

"You can tell me anything, Kate," Reynie said, holding her gaze for a moment and her eyes filled up with tears, something Reynie had only seen a few times before.

"I'm just… so scared, Reynie," Kate said after a pause. They sat together on a bench. "That Milligan will get hurt… or… that I'll lose him. I know it's crazy that I'm saying that now when we're safest. But I'm just so afraid that he'll do something irrational to prove that he's still strong- because he has no way to show us that now. To tell you the truth, I know that he does, because I feel the same way. He must be aching for adventure. Just like me. I feel so… useless," she ended awkwardly.

"Kate, you're about as far from useless as you could get," Reynie said with an ironic twist of his head.

"Yeah, but…" Kate shrugged, at a loss for words.

"It's like giving a fire fighter the task of containing a candle flame. It's not enough," Reynie offered.

"Exactly," Kate said, thankfully. "I don't know how much longer I- or Milligan- will last…I'm literally bursting with energy, Reynie, and I don't know what to do with it all."

"And none of us are much of a match for your energy, Kate… besides Milligan… or maybe Moocho," He said. "You know, Kate, I don't think my chances would be very high against you in an arm wrestling match, but if you ever want to start a project, I'd be glad to help in any way I can."

Kate smiled, "Milligan had the same idea. But I don't just want to fool around with something to pass the time… I want to help- I want to _do_ something!"

"Well, I've been thinking about that, actually… If we can get permission we should make a meeting place- for the society, I mean…" Reynie said and Kate's eyes glittered.

"You mean like a tree house?" Kate asked in a whisper. Reynie nodded. "Reynie you're a genius!" He shrugged shyly and Kate hugged his shoulders (as always with too much enthusiasm). "Let's get started right away so it can be a surprise for Milligan! Oh, and maybe we can start having our watch up there!" She carried on excitedly all the way home and Reynie basked in her glow.

If Kate had her way, the tree house would be complete with forty stories and an indoor swimming pool, but the others had something simpler in mind- just a basic tree house with a slanting roof and rope ladder. They got permission and enthusiasm for the plans. It was clear the adults wanted to help, but the children insisted that they were more than capable.

"Of course," said Rhonda finally. "We trust you. But I will pick up the supplies for you if you don't mind." To this they agreed and the children (even Constance) made plans with many crumpled pieces of paper and excited interjection from Kate, which included, "It wouldn't be _so_ hard to add a water slide," and "What do you mean? A spiral staircase would be a cinch!"

~::~

Constance, though reluctant about the rope ladder (the only entrance), was as excited about the tree house as any of them. She sat patiently by, watching the older kids draw up plans, making small accepted comments of her own. Her politeness was not lost on any of them, even in their merriment, and they all tried especially hard to include her.

They were about to show the blue prints to the adults, but Sticky put up a hand. "Um, maybe we should at a step ladder- here," he said, pointing to the back side of the tree."

Kate scowled in disbelief, "That defeats the whole point of the trap door, Sticky!"

"I know," he replied, giving Kate a meaningful look. She furrowed her brows. "I'm not quite as agile as you, Kate, so if you wouldn't mind…" Sticky mumbled and looked down.

"Oh, if you fellows want. I just want our tree house!" She exclaimed, adding in the ladder to the drawing.

Reynie looked at Constance who was watching Sticky with such admiration, Reynie wished Sticky would turn around and see it. She knew that Sticky had mentioned the stepladder for her sake. And so did Reynie.

They picked their tree, which wasn't a difficult decision (There was only one decent tree in the backyard). It was a lovely, towering oak that stood conveniently in one corner of the lawn. Kate rattled off the appropriate lengths of wood and Sticky added them up with ease. They reported the numbers and went in for lunch.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Surprises and Apologies

Reynie and Sticky had kitchen duty that night. They stood quietly, scrubbing dish after dish, even the topic of the tree house growing dim in the endless hours of suds.

Sticky moaned. "What?" asked Reynie. "Are the dishes that vicious?" He was mostly kidding, but his hands were beginning to ache. Even with the Washingtons away, it felt like the dishes reproduced, grime and all, of their own accord.

"Well, they are, but no. It's Constance," he said.

"In your head again?" asked Reynie, his stomach dropping. He'd wanted to warn Constance that Sticky noticed.

"Yeah… it's like the broadcasts at the institute. It drives me crazy!" he put down a dish and grabbed his head. "And it's not even that she's _saying_ anything. She's just _there_."

"Well," Reynie said, "you could try thinking in a different language. Maybe then she wouldn't be there so much." As soon as he said it, Reynie felt burning shame creep up his neck. He had betrayed Constance (though it was a bizarre betrayal at best) and he knew he would pay for it.

Sticky, on the other hand, looked as though the sun had come out for him, and after a particularly long rainfall at that. "Why did I never think of that? Reynie… that's beyond genius," he said, staring with such thanks in his eyes that Reynie had to laugh.

"No problem," he said, drying a dish.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" asked Sticky and there was a wisp of accusation in it.

Reynie shrugged, "Didn't think of it." That was true. Or it was, before he knew Constance had feelings for Sticky. His friend looked appeased. "It's rather wearing. I actually had to stop."

"Well, it can't be as bad as having _her_ in your head, Reynie. You wouldn't believe how impossibly _annoying_ that was. But it's better already. I owe you one," Sticky concluded and they went back to silence. Reynie burned inside, already making plans to apologize to Constance.

~::~

Reynie paced outside Constance's door. He paused, poised his hand to knock, then began to pace again, shaking his head and telling himself to man up. Squaring his shoulders, he knocked sharply three times. The door handle turned and Constance appeared, hair matted against her sticky cheeks. She'd been napping, but smiled when she saw Reynie.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, Constance," He said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.

She stretched, "That's fine… I wasn't really asleep. I don't need naps."

Reynie smiled. "Of course not."

The little girl crossed her arms and smothered a yawn. "Well, I don't. What do you want, anyway?"

"I wanted to talk to you. Uh, privately, but it can wait," Reynie said, thinking determinedly in Tamil. He didn't want Constance to find out that way.

"Reynie, please don't do that," Constance said quietly. Reynie grimaced and followed her into her room. Giving up, Reynie sat down on the bed with a whine of springs, folded his hands in his lap and waited.

A moment passed and Reynie vividly recalled the conversation with Sticky. Constance sighed, "Well, I figured he'd think of it anyway, he _is_ a genius you know."

Reynie looked up unbelievingly. "You're not mad?"

"I'm tired of being mad. Now I'm just… tired," Constance said, her pudgy hands fumbling over her blonde hair. "Anyway,…. You're not the only one who may have let something, _accidently,_ slip."

"What do you mean?" Reynie asked, dread building up inside him. Constance wouldn't meet his eyes. "Who did you tell?"

"Milligan."

"About Kate?" His voice quavered and he wanted to sink far beyond the floorboards into the very materials of the house, but Milligan being, well, Milligan, would him even there. He didn't need Constance's nod to know what Milligan now knew. Reynie swallowed hard. "Do you think he told Kate?"

"No. He promised not to. I- Reynie, I hope you know I didn't mean to, I really didn't mean it. I was kind of asleep anyway. You know, on watch and we were chatting and I… I don't even remember how it came up, but I said something like 'Reynie only ever thinks about Kate, anyway, he wouldn't have time to figure that out' and then, I had to… tell the whole thing." Constance intently studied her bare feet, biting the color out of her lower lip.

Some part of Reynie's mind sensed a puzzle and he pounced on it, wanting to distract himself with anything available at the moment. "What other thing did I not have time to figure out?"

"What, you're not going yell at me?" Constance asked. Her bright blue eyes shone with hope.

"Well, if you'd rather, but I'm more curious about what Milligan didn't want me to figure out," Reynie said, and he couldn't help but smile a little.

"Oh, they're planning a surprise. I already knew about it, obviously, because," she tapped her head, "you know… and Milligan was wondering whether you'd figured it out yet. I didn't tell you and the others because I know you guys need a treat and you wanted to keep the surprises as secret as they were supposed to be…." She trailed off. Then, "You want to know anyway?"

"Nah, it's okay. You're right, we need surprises." Reynie lay back. "It's going to awfully awkward around Milligan now, isn't it?"

Constance laughed sadly and they sat in silence for a while. "I'm sorry, Reynie," she said finally.

"It's okay. I guess he'd need to know sooner or later, anyway…" Reynie said, his eyes closed, hands behind his head. "I'm sorry too and I hope you can forgive me."

"I'll have to think about that," she replied and Reynie smiled.

~::~

The surprise didn't stay a surprise long. Kate burst into Reynie's room very early in the morning about three days later and positively pounced him awake.

"Reynie! Reynie, we're going away! We're getting out of here! Good grief- Wake _up,_ Reynie!" She shook his shoulders frantically.

Sticky was close on her heals, "It will be so intriguing to see that part of the country! You know, I've read that there have been rare sightings of _Chaetopappa hersheyi_ in that area and it would be wonderful to collect a sample. Do you think-"

"George Washington, you're giving me a headache!" Constance groaned gripping her head. "Couldn't you at least, _speak_ in English?"

Sticky's face hardened. "I can't help it that I have to resort to another language just to keep my thoughts private, Constance. If you weren't so intolerably-"

"Please!" Kate yelled, silencing them. "You guys, this is no time for arguing! We're going on _vacation!_ And, oh, Reynie, Milligan is coming home early!"

Reynie was sitting up in his bed, still dazed with sleep, but smiled at all of them. "That's great," he said, voice groggy, "when do we leave? Where are we-"

"Ugh! Constance!" Sticky whipped around to glare at Constance, who was resolutely staring at him. "I'm so sick of you! Can you please just stay out of my head? You're the most annoying person on the planet- Just leave me alone, for once!" The room stilled, Sticky breathing heavy, the three older kids expecting Constance's counter attack.

Instead they watched as her eyes filled up with tears, "I'm sorry," she whispered meekly. "I can't always… help it…" The tears began to roll when she turned away.

They all stared after her. "Uh, I'll go talk to her," Kate finally said and left the room.

Sticky looked helplessly at Reynie, who shrugged. After a few false starts, Sticky asked, "What on earth just happened?"

"I think she's trying to grow up," Reynie sighed. "Maybe… we should give her a chance to do it."

"Maybe," Sticky agreed.

"Where are we going anyway?" Asked Reynie, who was partly curious and partly wanted to get off the subject.

Sticky's eyes brightened, "Oh! We're going to the Cole's farm. You know, Mr. Benedict's friends?"

"Yeah, Violet and John, right?" Reynie asked.

"Mhm, and their son- he's a little older than us. Kate's age. They actually have two boys, but the older one, Nick, is serving in the Military."

"Which branch?" Reynie asked with interest as they started down the hall toward breakfast.

"Navy, like Mr. Benedict and Captain Noland. He's nineteen and the other boy, Mark, is about fifteen." The boys entered the dining room and were forced to split, due to the lack of available chairs.

Reynie found himself beside Constance, who was moodily picking at her food. She wasn't the only quiet one at the table. Mr. Benedict was quietly studying a newspaper across the table from Reynie. He looked up and smiled at Reynie, "Good morning, Reynie. I am sure that you are informed on our upcoming trip?"

"Yes, sir. When are we leaving?" Reynie responded, with a returning smile.

"This afternoon, if things go as planned," answered Mr. Benedict with a twinkle in his green eyes.

Reynie was about to make further inquiries (one of which had to do with the sugar bowl that happened to be near Mr. Benedict's left elbow), but he was interrupted by a sharp jab in his ribs. Looking down, Reynie saw Constance's eyes light up.

"They're here!" She shouted. Mr. Benedict smiled and everyone else looked confused. "Captain Noland and Cannonball are-"

At the sound of their names, the men burst through the doors with exclamations and greeting. Reynie noted that Kate hung back to retie her ponytail before bestowing her hugs. Captain Noland shook Mr. Benedict's hand and gave him a packet of papers. Before anyone could ask about the nature of the packet and said papers, a surprised giggle and booming laugh cut them off. Milligan had Kate, who for once was off her guard, in a hug and that at first scared and then thrilled her.

"Milligan you're home!" Kate locked her arms behind his head and he spun her around, narrowly missing a stack of grimy dishes Moocho had collected over the course of the meal. She didn't let go for a long while and even went so far as to kiss his cheek.

Milligan chuckled, "I think I should go away more often if I'm to receive this kind of greeting." But he was holding her just as close, glad to see his daughter safe. Once he had their fill of hugs, Milligan too handed Mr. Benedict some papers and said something quietly in his ear.

"Train tickets!" Constance exclaimed. "You didn't say we were going by train Mr. Benedict!"

He smiled, "Well, I know that you didn't have much of a chance to enjoy your last train ride, so I thought we might take the train this time, together." Constance got out of her seat and hugged his knees. Everyone was a little taken aback by this apparently sweet-natured Constance Contraire. Everyone, that is, except Mr. Benedict, who kissed the top of her head gently, "I'm glad to have pleased you, my dear."

~::~

The countryside passed in a flurry, flicking gold with fields, then blue with rivers in what Constance called a "ground bound." The train was made of black and silver and was complete with a genuine whistle that hurt your ears if you didn't cover them. The children reclined against the smooth, green leather booth seats around a square table that was bolted to the ground, letting their eyes fall into the pattern of following an object until it disappeared into the metal of the train window. A chandelier hung over them, glittering in the afternoon sunshine. All were smiling intermittently, gripping perspiring glasses of lemonade. It was good to be out in the world. They were all content to sit (except Kate who had slipped off her shoes and was practicing tying and untying the shoe laces with her toes) and spoke rarely, though their smiles never faded.

Scrambled and crumpled, the designs for the tree house, now completed, littered the table, unattended. Even the prospect of meeting place was nothing compared to a real, certified vacation. The Coles lived on a working farm, larger even than the Milligan and Kate's though Kate had her doubts that it was as impressive as theirs. She leaned out the window to catch a glimpse of Madge, who she'd snuck off and on the train nearly five times now. The falcon in question reveled in the freedom of the open landscape, keeping up pretty well with the train from a dizzying height, snacking on peaceful birds and serpents to her heart's content.

The conductor, a tall, harshly neat man in his mid 60's, leaned from his station to watch the children again. All except the small one, who had rudely spilled half her lemonade on his knew gray slacks and forced him to apologize (he still wasn't quite sure why, but for some reason, had given into the ridiculous demand expressed his apologies, which she refused to accept with an upturned nose), the children were the neatest and the kindest he'd ever seen or heard of. The darker anxious boy had not only complimented the train, but also gave some astounding (and accurate) facts about its model. He now poured over a book, but couldn't have been reading because he turned the pages so quickly- The cover read _Hearing The Deaf._ What a spectacle. Although the poor conductor thought it strange that a teenaged girl should carry a bucket on her hip (perhaps it was a new fashion? Who knew what kids wore these days), the broad shouldered girl had fixed the compartment locks and rendered the door hinges silent in a matter of seconds. Even now, she was testing the wobbly table with her feet, a disapproving expressing crossing her eyes. Secretly, the conductor hoped she'd fix it (he'd been thinking about hiring a repair man for almost a month, but he didn't have the time or budget). And the plain looking boy, quietly searching the sky had such a way about him, resolving every argument that happened to break out among them (which was very few and mostly started with the small one, who now was absently picking her nose) and apologizing for the lemonade spill, putting a gentle hand on the bald boy's shoulder when he began to talk too much, and watching the blonde one with due admiration. His musings were interrupted, however, when an extremely bow-legged young man broke out in a whistle behind him. He tipped his hat and greeted him loudly, "Morning!"

The conductor winced, but smiled and moved from his position with a mumbled response, blushing deeply for now the children knew that he had been spying.

The children, in fact, had already noticed the conductor's presence (his shoe tips extended a litter further than he thought and showed quite plainly around the door frame) and were glad to see him go. The moment he was gone, Kate leapt up to retrieve Madge (none of them even wanted to guess how she did this, so none followed). Cannonball greeted her as she passed out of the room and slid in next Constance who grudgingly scooted over for him. The boys smiled and talked jovially (and so did Constance, once Cannonball got out his store of peppermints).

"You all must be excited. Milligan says you don't get out much," Cannonball said, popping a mint into his mouth and fishing another one out of his pocket for Constance, who had her sticky hand extended for the next treat, even though her mouth was bulging.

"No, we hardly get to visit the front yard, let alone a different state," Reynie answered and noticed Constance's face snap to attention, watching Cannonball intently.

Cannonball laughed, but his face had grown slightly uneasy as if he'd said something he shouldn't have. He tried shifting the subject by saying, "Hey, Sticky, I'll bet you know as much about train as you do about ships, don't you?" It worked. Sticky launched into a long and rather boring monologue about the structure and origin of trains and each individual part in alphabetical order.

Reynie quietly excused himself to seek out Kate. As it was, Kate was that ended up finding him. She shot out a quick hand as he passed the closet she was concealed in and pulled him in, a hand pressed over his mouth before the yell could escape.

"Shh! Listen," she whispered urgently. Reynie released her fingers from his mouth and tried to regain the oxygen to his lungs without being overly loud. He didn't have to strain his ears to hear what Kate wanted him to.

"Is there any hope for her then?" Asked Milligan is his boisterous voice.

"Not much- unless she starts now," Number Two said snappily. "This is not a laughing matter Milligan!"

Milligan, apparently, thought it was indeed a laughing matter because he was most definitely concealing a chuckle, "What do you propose I do?"

"Let Rhonda and I teach her!" She persisted. "Listen Milligan, she's grown up without a mother or sister… She deserves this!"

This quieted Milligan. Reynie heard Kate inhale sharply: Milligan had never spoken about Kate's mother.

"I am beyond sorry that she will never meet her mother," Milligan said, for a moment, sounding like his old, melancholy self.

Number Two sighed, "All I'm saying is she needs a lady's example. She can't grow up all rough and tumble!"

"And why not?" Asked Milligan. He chuckled, "It's what she's good at."

"You just don't want her to grow up- be swept away," Number Two retorted. "She's almost fifteen and doesn't even own a dress."

"No, I don't want her to be swept away," Milligan agreed. "But I can't stop that," he laughed deeply, "in fact, I think her sweeping away is already in process."

"What do you mean?" Asked Number Two icily. "Don't try to change the subject." Reynie swallowed- he knew exactly what Milligan meant. "At least let her share a room with Rhonda! Let me buy her a dress or two- at least a skirt!"

"Hm," Milligan considered, "don't you think it'd be rather hard to do a cartwheel in a skirt, Pencillia?" Luckily, Milligan's laugh covered Reynie's own sudden chuckle.

"She'll never have a chance to be a girl, Milligan, if you don't let her," Number Two persisted, with a crackle that sounded like a chip bag being opened. She bit into something crunchy. "You _want_ her to grow up like a boy?"

Reynie could hear the smile in Milligan's tone, "Pencillia, if you can wrestle Kate into a dress, you can give her all the lady lessons you like. Best of luck to you," he said, obviously patting her on the shoulder. Their footsteps clattered away.

Bursting from the closet, Reynie and Kate tumbled out, giggling. "Well, that was interesting," Reynie managed to get out.

"I was just on my way to get Madge when I heard them talking! I didn't want to eavesdrop, but I wouldn't miss that for the world," Kate laughed.

Reynie was beyond glad that Kate didn't seem to mind being called… well, not a lady. He was about to comment on the subject when the train came to a jolting halt.

"We should probably-," Reynie began, but Kate was gone. "Kate?" He crossed the hallway to the back door. Hesitating slightly, Reynie pulled it open, "Kate?" He called again.

"Up here!" Came her voice. Reynie followed out onto the miniature platform and up some slippery steps. Kate was standing on top of the train, stroking Madge, "Careful- it's slippery."

"Yeah, no kidding," Reynie replied, his eyes strictly on the metal in front of him. He assumed they were at some outside station.

"This is nothing though _now_ ," Kate said lightly.

"Don't tell me you were up here when the train was _moving,_ " Reynie said, aghast.

"Well, I tied my rope to the ladder just in case," she shrugged.

Reynie found his footing and looked around, trying to process what Kate had just said. They were indeed stopped at an outdoor station, which was surrounded by lovely, rolling hills.

"It's beautiful here," Reynie breathed and looked up just in time to see a gust of wind pick up Kate's hair and blow it behind her. Her eyes were full of admiration and adventure and Reynie stared, very tempted to comment on how lovely she looked.

Kate whispered something to Madge and let her loose. They both watched the falcon for a moment. "Well, we better get back. Milligan will _murder_ me if he finds out what I've been doing."

"Not quite murder," came her father's voice. Milligan climbed into sight, "But I might very well be… _upset_ with you if I wasn't in such a good mood."

Kate ran forward (interjected with several flips) and hugged Milligan. She tended to do this every time she saw him lately. "But you're always in a good mood," she teased.

"Now, anyway," Milligan agreed. "What are you two doing up here?"

"Feeding Madge," Kate said, shrugging far faster than she should have. She made to leap of the side off the motionless train, but Milligan caught her before she could.

"Wait just one minute, young lady," he said, but he was grinning. "Madge didn't fly the whole way from Stonetown I hope?"

"She's a pretty amazing bird," Kate offered casually.

Milligan clucked his tongue, "Come now Katie-Cat. I don't want to have to punish you on our trip."

Kate laughed, but sounded just a little worried when she spoke, "You don't know _how_ to punish anyone but Ten Men Milligan, and you know it."

"That's true," he conceded, "but I'm sure the conductor would be very interested to know why two children were up on his train. Now you tell me right now. Were you up here while the train was moving?" He looked severely as he could into her identical eyes.

"I had a safety rope," Kate said finally.

Milligan's lips twisted and he fought to keep his face serious. "And Reynie was with you?"

"Good gravy, no!" Kate protested. "You think I would risk his life like that?"

"But you risked your own," Milligan pointed out.

"But I…" Kate said, searching for a good excuse, but she gave up and hung her head. "I'm sorry."

Milligan gave in, "I just want you to understand that you can't take unnecessary risks, Katy. I love you- I just don't want you to get hurt. Just think what would have happened if your rope snapped? Or if we went into a tunnel unexpectedly?" He hugged her at the thought, "I just want you to be safe."

Kate giggled into his coat, "You're really bad at getting angry at me."

Milligan shrugged, "It's a work in progress. As for you, young man," he said, turning to Reynie. "What exactly were you doing on top of a train with my daughter?

"Um, getting Madge?" Reynie asked, unsure if the answer was acceptable.

"Of course, Miss Perumal will have to hear about this," Milligan said.

"No!" Reynie pleaded, "I'll never hear the end of that!"

But both Kate and Milligan were laughing now. Milligan ruffled his hair, "I'm only teasing. You're off the hook. This time," he assured Reynie who was now very red-faced.

"You're adorable, Reynie," Kate said, reaching up to pat his head, which she did with some difficulty. Reynie was taller by nearly four inches now, a fact he was very proud of. She did a back handspring off the side of the train and landed with a gleeful, "Tada!"

Reynie looked down and applauded her and then scrambled down the ladder and through the corridors to meet the others on the platform.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER Seven

Farm Formalities

It was matter of strategically packing eleven people into a small van, deciding the driver, and making a solemn oath not to complain about the lack of air conditioning before they were off. No one, however, not even Constance, was in the mood to complain.

Sticky found himself squished between Moocho and Mrs. Perumal, one rather large, the other quite fragile and he avoided knocking much into either of them. Reynie, however, was not much more comfortably seated. He was pressed into the rear-facing seat beside Milligan (who was holding Constance) and Kate, who was bobbing up and down with excitement. Their odd placement, no matter how unfortunate, gave them no plight. They were on vacation- a real vacation.

Mr. Benedict's eyes sparkled brighter every minute, as they grew closer. The van rolled by a huge estate, thickly wooded and obviously well cared for, with large silver letters that spelled out _Rothschild's End_ on a sign out front. Reynie secretly burned within, knowing the place was an orphanage. He pitied any child that had to pass under those great doors.

It was perhaps an hour later that the van finally slowed and the group let out a collective breath. Mr. Benedict, who was driving, turned to smile at everyone in the car (those who were in the back craned to meet his eyes). "I know you will _all_ be on your best behavior," he said, looking at Constance. And then Kate. Both made a noise of contempt. When the others laughed, Kate joined in, but Constance stuck out her tongue.

Moocho was out of the car first and it was simply a matter of pealing the ten remaining sardines out of the can before setting off toward the farmhouse. Sticky came to walk beside Reynie, both with gleeful springs in their strides. Kate jawed with Cannonball and Constance rode piggyback on her shoulders while sucking on yet another mint. All the children were bursting with joy, the sunshine on their faces and in their hearts.

The grass thickened as they passed a pen of horses, their great shaggy mains glistening. A boy was riding one, a little in the distance. He stood on the horses back, bare of a saddle, and swung a lasso over his head. Kate put Constance up on the rail and plopped her elbows down to watch. Milligan whistled and the boy looked up from his concentrated expression. He pulled to a stop and sprinted over. He looked to be seventeen or so, but if this was Mark, Reynie knew he was only fifteen. He was tall and thin with a handsome face and bright blue eyes. He brushed his dark hair out of his face and offered a calloused hand to Mr. Benedict.

"I know you weren't expecting us today and I apologize," Mr. Benedict said.

"That's quite alright. It's an honor to meet you, sir. My father has told me so much about you," The boy said. "I'm Mark," He added waving to the rest. Milligan, Captain Noland, Cannonball, and Moocho shook hands as well.

Mark jumped the fence, rolling his plaid sleeves back down over his farmer's tan. Mark was quite a bit taller than Reynie and much taller than Constance. He squatted down and smiled at her- a kind, charming smile, "Here," he said, offering her a bright pink lollipop and tipping his hat. He gave his hand and she took it, uncharacteristically shy. "And what's your name?" He asked, trying to look into her eyes.

"That's Constance," Kate was bouncing with excitement and too impatient for Constance's reply. "Where'd you learn to do that?" She asked Mark, gesturing to the horses.

Mark laughed, straightening up, "Taught myself. I know my form must be awful," He rolled his eyes, "But it's still fun. You must be Kate."

"How did you…?" She began, confused.

"The red bucket kind of gives you away," He said, with a wink. "My dad's told me a lot about you four." He turned expectantly toward the boys.

"Sticky," said Sticky holding out his hand, which Mark shook. "Nice to meet you."

"You're Reynie, then," said Mark, shaking his hand too. "I'm glad to have you boys around. My brother left last week for deployment and I'm grateful for the company," His face fell, just slightly.

"We're glad to be here," Reynie said, giving him a reassuring smile. He liked Mark already.

"You look very much like your father, Mark," Mr. Benedict commented, after Mark had been properly introduced to everyone. "But you have you're mother's smile."

"Yes, that's what they tell me," Mark said brightly. "Should we head up to the farmhouse for some lemonade and cookies?"

Everyone agreed that that sounded good and Mark led the way up a grassy walkway lined with pens of cows and sheep. Kate did handsprings the whole way up, chattering excitedly. Constance rode piggyback, this time, trustingly, with Mark. He took off his hat and plopped it on her head to block the sun. She giggled and broke into her lollipop.

The house, in reality, was quite large, but looked rather small compared to its vast surroundings and towering neighbor of a barn. Mark flew up the porch steps and let Constance ring the bell before setting her down.

"Thank you for the ride," she said sweetly, "and the candy."

Kate exchanged glances with Reynie, "Four years later and I still haven't gotten a thank you for a single piggyback. What's up with her?" Reynie shrugged, puzzling over it himself.

Mark, meanwhile, ruffled Constance's hair and hailed everyone up to the porch. Violet, John's mother, opened the door. She signed a hello and for everyone to come in. Reynie, from Mr. Benedict's stories, had known that Violet was deaf. Sticky too, had picked up on it and Constance had her own ways of knowing. Kate surprised them all, then, by signing to her with perfect accuracy. Violet flashed a lovely smile and signed something back. Those that could understand sign language laughed and Kate blushed.

"What did she say?" Asked Cannonball.

Kate put her hands to her cheeks, grinning, "She likes my bucket."

~::~

Milligan, Reynie, and Mark went back for the luggage, insisting that the others should settle in and wait for Mr. Cole. Mark pulled a cart behind him to haul the bags. While they unloaded the car, they talked, Reynie inside, handing out the bags, Mark and Milligan strategically organizing them inside the cart.

"How long have you lived here?" Milligan inquired of Mark.

"Since I was born. My mother's parents owned it before then. My mother grew up here," He said, carefully balancing a green suitcase on a pile of backpacks.

"It's seems to be in great shape," Reynie commented.

Mark flashed him a smiled over duffle bag, "It's our pride and joy."

"My daughter and I own a farm," Milligan told him, straightening up and stretching. "It's not so big as this one, or so… traditional," he smiled at Reynie, who know what he meant, "but it was home."

Reynie liked the way he had said " _was_ home" because Milligan and Kate belonged in Stonetown. They belonged with Mr. Benedict. Just like he did. Just like they all did.

"I hear you have quite the talented daughter, sir," Mark said to Milligan. "Does she really have a falcon?"

"Yep, Mage," Milligan replied, smilingly.

"That's short for Her Majesty the Queen," Reynie clarified.

Mark smiled, "That's a good name."

"And she's quite a girl- Kate, I mean," Milligan said and then added, almost to himself, "I think Reynie would agree."

"Definitely," Reynie said, but ducked back inside the car for more trunks to hide his blush, stomach squirming.

"Then she takes after you, sir," Mark said and he and Milligan heaved in the last, weighted bag. "Did you really jump from the roof a of three story building and survive?"

"I did jump off the building, yes, but, unfortunately, I didn't survive," Milligan said and chuckled. "I see Mr. Benedict's been bragging about us."

"He just passed on some stories to my father- who told them to me," Mark shrugged. "They sounded more like legends to me. True ones, of course," He said and helped Reynie close the trunk of the rental car, which stuck only if you pushed it down just right.

Milligan dragged the cart while the boys pushed from behind. Unfortunately, the work was all uphill so there wasn't much breath left for talking. By the time they reached the farmhouse again, Mr. Cole was riding up.

"Dad!" Mark called. Something in Reynie shriveled. He'd never had a father except for… with a jolt, he realized the closest thing he'd ever had to a dad was Milligan. "Dad look whose here!"

Mr. Cole dismounted and looked around at the group. Except for some faded pock scars, Mr. Cole looked very much like his son. "Hello," he said kindly. "I'm John," he told them, shaking hands with Reynie and Milligan. "Forgive me for being late- I'd have come up to the farmhouse sooner but someone left the pig pen unlocked and I had to retrieved them." Mr. Cole didn't look at his son, but Mark reddened deeply and it wasn't hard to guess who that "somebody" had been.

"Pig pens have a terrible habit of unlocking themselves," Milligan said, with his usual smile. "Milligan," he said with a nod.

"Ah, and you must be Reynie," John said, turning toward him.

"Yes, sir," Reynie nodded.

"I've heard many great things about you, Reynie. The way I see it, I owe you my life," he said. "Shall we head inside? Smells like dinner's ready."

They all loaded up on bags and headed in. The room got quiet from the previous chatter. Mr. Benedict's squeaky laugh broke the silence, "John!"

"Nick," John said and they embraced. Mr. Benedict continued his dolphin laugh. "Nick!" John exclaimed. "You're- you're laughing!"

"Indeed I am," Mr. Benedict chuckled.

"But- you're not asleep! How?" John shook his head, smiling for the first time. "How could you keep that from me?"

"You never asked," Mr. Benedict said slyly. "And I'm afraid the idea of surprising you was simply too tempting."

"Well you did that," John said, shaking his head.

 _I wish I could hear your laugh, Nick_ , Violet signed and Sticky translated, though most of the people in the room could understand her.

Mr. Benedict took her hands, "Ah, but you can hear me best of all, can't you?" He asked.

Violet laughed, a lovely, silvery laugh that touched the ear like raindrops on the cheek. _I've missed you._

"As I've missed you, my dear friends," he said, a hand on Violet's shoulder.

Mark tugged gently on Reynie elbow and whispered, "I think the grown ups have some catching up to do- I'll show you your rooms."

Reynie beckoned for Kate, Constance, and Sticky to follow. Mark slipped out the front door and held the screen, "We'll be sleeping in the barn," he said as they passed outside.

Constance gave him a testing look, "In the _barn?_ " A bit of her old spunk evidently returned.

"Don't worry," Mark reassured her. "It was remodeled years ago. In my opinion, it's more comfortable than the house."

Constance brightened and flashed him a smile, "You had me worried there for a second!"

Mark laughed and took Constance's hand as she descended the steps, "Sorry for the scare, Connie. I think you'll like the barn, actually- you girls get the bottom floor, the boys and I will sleep in the loft, if that sounds agreeable to you all."

Reynie was certain he'd heard wrong. Had Mark called Constance _"Connie?"_ It didn't seem likely seeing as there was no cataclysmic explosion following. Reynie stared meaningfully at Constance, but she pretended not to notice.

Kate had halted behind the group, her mouth slightly ajar. Yanking Reynie to a stop she whispered vehemently into her ear, "What is _with_ her?" Reynie shook his head, just as puzzled as Kate. "Talk to her, won't you? It's going to drive me crazy not knowing."

"I will but…" Reynie scratched his head. "I don't think she'll be very willing to tell me."

"Oh come on, Reynie, people tell you everything," she whispered frantically, "I'm sure you know more about me than even Milligan does. You can do it, pal," she clapped him on the back and ran to catch up with the others. Reynie grinned.

The barn was larger than the house and most of its wall space was occupied by lavish paintings. Kate spun in a slow arc, mouth slightly open.

"You like them?" Mark asked, smiling proudly.

"They're beautiful," Kate said, continuing her slow spin, eyes eating up the colors. "Who's the artist?"

"My mother," Mark replied.

Kate's eyes snapped down, "You mom did these? They're incredible!" She ran to the nearest picture and checked the signature at the bottom. "Do you think she would teach me?" She raced around, studying all the pictures.

"I'm sure she'd love to," Mark answered cheerfully. "Which do you like the best?"

"Oh, I couldn't choose," Kate said fervently, but stopped abruptly in front of a picture of a great open field full of daisies, clearly impressed with the indents of two figures that had previously lain there. Nothing- and everything- about the picture was right: proportion, texture, and color- but the then everything was far too vibrant. They shone. "This one… is amazing," Kate said.

Mark grinned and went to stand by her, "I did this one, actually."

"Really?" Kate asked, and her eyes sparkled as much as the painting.

"It took me almost a year and I almost gave up on it… but, my mother's patience gave me the will to finish," he said, clearly thinking back to the making of the painting- each individual stroke of the brush.

Kate laughed, "Maybe _you_ should teach me."

"If we can find a moment- I have a feeling this month will be pretty busy- I'd love to," Mark said, smiling.

"She's already very good," Reynie put in. "You should see some of her sketches."

"Reynie," Kate said, blushing crimson.

"What? Can't I brag a little? You put in so much practice, you deserve it Kate," Reynie told her firmly. He shook his head at Mark, "But, really, she's quite amazing. I've never had the knack for drawing myself."

'Then she should be an easy pupil," Mark said, grinning. "Come on Reynie, Sticky, I'll show you the loft while the girls get settled here."

Reynie followed behind Sticky, who was still making comments about the artwork. "Does your mother consider herself an impressionist? Or more of a abstract painter?"

"A little of both, I think, and others," Mark replied, pulling a string that let down stairs from above. He stepped aside for the boys to pass, Reynie between he and Sticky. "But, I think she's really developed a style of her own."

Sticky nodded in agreement, "Her work is very unique. However, it does remind me of-" But Sticky didn't finish. The boys froze at the top of the stairs. The loft was not, as Reynie expected, a line of dressed up cots in a row, but rather a spacious upstairs, fully furnished and complete with a bathroom. Three beds were lined under three windows, framing the blaze of setting sun. The floors were of dark wood and a fine trunk stood guard at the end of each bed. A rather tall chair rail lined the empty wall across from the beds.

Mark laughed softly behind them, "You like it?"

"Wow," is all Sticky got out.

"Um," Reynie shrugged and collapsed on the plush bed with a sigh, fingers locking behind his head, "It's alright."

Three small fans spun overhead, keeping the room comfortable with a quiet whir. There was a desk in one corner, placed also beneath a window that overlooked a distant lush fields and the silhouette of a smoky bluff.

"When you said loft, I thought you men, you know, a _hay_ loft," Sticky said, sinking down on a plump chair between a set of beds, eyes roving.

"This isn't even the best part. Watch," Mark walked over to a lever Reynie had noticed upon entering. He sat up curiously. Mark tugged on it, looking over his shoulder to see the boys' reactions.

The bare wall that cut the barn in half slid out, breaking an almost undetectable seam. The roof too retreated. The girls below, who were now visible below them, made noises of exclamation.

Reynie ran forward, leaning against the chair rail, which remained to act as a safe guard. The sun cut into the room, making the dark floors burn with light.

"No. Way," Kate sighed audibly. Disregarding the ladder, Kate mounted her bed pole and climbed up over the chair rail. Reynie offered his hand, which she took with a quick smile at him. She steadied herself and stared up at the sky with Reynie and Sticky.

Constance, who was feeling very abandoned, pulled herself clumsily up the stairs. Reynie pulled himself from the view of fiery clouds to help Constance, but stopped when he saw Mark's face. He was staring, at first aghast and then laughingly and then admiringly at Kate. She looked down to meet his piercing blue eyes and grin and didn't look away. She only smiled sweetly, blushed, and turned away after a moment.

Reynie moved to help Constance, who, instead of complaining, gave him a searching, pitying look. He grimaced at her and shook his head slightly, signing for her not to worry about him. But he was disheartened. Kate… had never looked at him like that.

"Milligan said you were remarkable…" Mark said, still mesmerized by Kate, "But I had no idea…" he shook his head, "Sorry, I've just never seen a girl do that kind of thing." He blushed.

"Well, I'm not exactly very good a being girl," Kate admitted. The room went quiet. "So, was the skylight thing your idea?"

"No," Mark said, relieved. "It was my dad's. Reminds him of his childhood. He says every kid deserves to have one at one point or other." He shrugged.

Sticky launched into a lengthy dialogue with Mark about the function of the skylight, how all the gears connected and such and, or so Constance claimed, drained all of the magic out of the idea. That rendered Sticky quiet for a bit.

The dinner bell rang and Mark slid down the ladder, completely bypassing the rungs. Just like Kate did. She grinned and leapt after him. Sticky smiled after them, letting Constance climb down first.

"I think Kate's finally found someone that can keep up with her," Sticky said, admiringly. "First one since Milligan, I think."

Reynie only smiled, his stomach sinking at the blunt truth.

"I like Mark already," Sticky continued. "You reckon he should be in our Society?"

Constance answered before Reynie could, "Absolutely not, George Washington. I will not have our society overrun with stinky boys."

"Oh yeah," Sticky retorted, following, "well, what if _I_ don't want it overrun with _brats_?"

"Then you can leave the club," Constance said smugly. Reynie pulsed a thank you to Constance in his mind and they locked eyes understandingly at the bottom of the ladder before heading into the house.

~::~

 _There once was a boy who thought_

 _He knew a whole awful lot_

 _But, he was simply boring_

 _And left all of us snoring._

 _He knows just what he may see_

 _Yes everything, just not me. . ._

Refrains like these drifted in and out of Constance's thoughts and, surprisingly, into Reynie's as well. He had a feeling Constance was doing him a favor, trying to distract him. It worked. He had a headache by the end of the evening.

Mrs. Cole, or Violet, as she asked the children to address her as, made soup and fresh bread with the help of Rhonda and Number Two. Kate and Reynie were assigned to set the table, under Mark's instruction.

"What do you say to fishing trip tomorrow, Reynie?" Asked Mark, handing him a light blue, calico print plate.

Reynie smiled lightly, "Sure, I've never been, though, so someone will have to teach me."

"Reynie Muldoon, you've never been fishing?" Asked Kate, aghast. She was standing on a chair and pulling down spare plates from the top shelf and handing them to Mark.

Reynie shook his head, setting yet another plate, this one green and checked. The back up dishes didn't match exactly, which left the table in a display of color.

"We'll just have to fix that," she declared, doing a back flip of the chair and landing lightly on her toes, sticking the landing. Mark stared, Reynie smiled. Kate kept talking, unfazed. "You know, Milligan is a fantastic fishermen. He taught me everything I know."

Milligan's voice boomed through the house as if on cue, "Katy? Could you come here for a moment?"

"Yes!" she called back (the boys covered their ears) and dashed from the room.

"Do you like fishing then?" Asked Reynie, not wanting the conversation to fall flat. He spread out paper napkins, but looked up when Mark didn't reply.

He shook his head, "Is she…?"

"Always like that?" Reynie finished for him. Mark nodded. "Yeah. She-" Reynie was about to explain about Kate's bringing up in the circus, but he was cut off by a terrified scream.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter eight

Clues and cues

The scream belonged to Constance. But the screaming end of her wasn't visible. Her legs, however, were squirming madly out of the highest window of the loft, lodged there by the half open window.

Sticky stood with his hands on his hips, one hand strangling his polishing cloth. Kate was inside yelling things at Constance over her screams. Milligan had disappeared (surely to reappear in a super-hero-like way, as was natural for Milligan) and the other adults weren't in sight.

"What happened?" Asked Reynie as Mark ran below Constance's enraged tennis shoes, prepared to catch her if she slipped.

Sticky only shook his head, beads of sweat glistening on shiny patches of his shaved scalp.

Constance slid further out. Reynie sighed, exasperated, "Why doesn't she let Kate pull her in?"

Again Sticky shook his head. Then a light of clarity passed over his eyes, "She's scared- Constance is- and she won't let go of the sill. I know the feeling- you just loose sight of sense."

"Sticky," Reynie said carefully, "Open your mind to her. She'll calm down."

"What?" Asked Sticky, shocked.

"Just do it," Reynie commanded. "She'll…" He thought quickly, "Be surprised to here from you and listen. Believe me. Do it."

Sticky went quiet and closed his eyes, sitting down slowly on the grass. As he had done with the Whisperer, he spoke his thoughts out loud, this time in a murmur. "George Washington to Constance," He said. Constance's screaming ceased for a moment, but when Kate made a grab for her, she slipped further and blared even louder. Sticky's brow furrowed. "Calm down… Let Kate help you inside," he said, using hand motions she couldn't see. Sticky pursed his lips, "I'm _not_ telling you what to do." The screaming turned to moans. "Just this once, Constance, listen…" He paused, as if waiting for her response. "Good. Now, let Kate take you under the arms. Good." Constance's voice faded into sharp sighs. "Now… relax…" Constance slid in through the window frame into Kate's arms. Sticky kept his eyes closed and repeated, "You're safe, you're safe, you're safe," in a comforting whisper until Constance appeared in the barn door. They met eyes for a moment, but that was all the mention either made of the situation.

Constance continued to hiccup, showing her hands, splintered from the frame. Mark suggested ice and tweezers, which Constance winced at. Sticky stepped forward and took her by the wrist, pulling her in his wake. For once, Constance looked like the four-year-old she was, eyes big and apprehensive, but also trusting.

Reynie wanted to go in and referee the two, so prone to bickering, but Kate pulled him back. Mark gave them a suspicious look and ducked into the house.

"Where are the grownups, Kate?" Asked Reynie with an odd sinking feeling. "Where's Milligan?"

"After… something," she said cryptically.

"After what?"

"I don't know," she said, eyes darting back and forth in concentration. "Something important enough to leave Constance in my hands, if he heard her. He would've been back by now."

"And the others?" Asked Reynie.

"With him, I guess, I don't know," she said. "They all left and Constance was tormenting Sticky when Milligan called me and told me he had to go. I was headed back into the house when… she slipped, I guess. Maybe Sticky knows more," she offered.

"We need to have a Society meeting," Reynie said, sighing. A puzzle was prickling somewhere inside him. He desperately needed to pace.

"What about..." Kate said, nodding her head toward the house. "Him?"

Mark was an obstacle, but not for long. He rushed out of the house a moment later in boots and a jack, a lantern in hand to pierce the growing dark. "I'll be right back. You four stay in the house if you would."

Kate bobbed on her feet, eager to chase after him, Reynie knew. He made his mouth lift into an encouraging smile, "Go ahead."

To her credit, Kate hesitated for less than a moment. "What? And miss a real Society meeting? No way," she said, grabbing Reynie by his sleeve and dragging him into the house behind her.

"Sticky, Constance, we're meeting in the loft," Kate said sharply when she entered the house. Constance was planted on the counter, Sticky carefully removing a splinter from her hand while she sniffled. She held a bag of ice in the other hand. "Never mind. Let's just… here's fine," she said.

Releasing Reynie's shirt, she leapt up onto a chair and announced, "The grownups are gone. Looking for something."

"Looking for what?" Sticky asked, pausing in mid-pull.

Constance yanked down her hand, tugging the splinter free. She winced, but said clearly, "She doesn't know. But… but I might. Hold on." She closed her eyes, her hands resting, palms up, on her knees. "You don't have glasses anymore, Sticky," she murmured after a moment.

Reynie looked at Sticky, who was in the process of removing his polishing cloth. He looked with surprise at his hand and then determinedly stuffed the cloth back into his pocket, brow furrowed.

"Don't worry- it's not Curtain," she said, a smile pressing into her cheeks, the other three followed suit. "It's- oh." Lines appeared in her forehead.

"What?" asked Sticky nervously.

Constance sadly opened her eyes, "A surprise. For us."

"Don't you dare tell, Constance," Kate warned.

"I won't!" Constance snapped, hopped down off the counter, and marched into the next room.

"What's eating her?" Kate asked, mystified.

"Not so happy now that Mark's out," Sticky grumbled.

"Well… put yourself in her shoes," Reynie said carefully. "How would you like being in on every surprise?"

"I'd love it," Kate said, astounded that Reynie would even ask.

He shrugged, conceding, "Maybe. For a little while. But… well, don't you like being surprised?"

Kate nodded slowly, understanding, "Yeah, I see what you mean I guess. But she doesn't _have_ to know. She could just-"

"You know she can't always help it," Reynie said, almost disapprovingly. "And other times, like now, we need her to do it."

"Yeah, but, it turned out to be nothing," Kate said.

"But we didn't know that," Sticky said, understanding what Reynie meant. "Don't you feel better now that you know we're not going to be attacked by Ten Men any time soon?"

"I guess," Kate shrugged. Reynie wondered if she _did_ feel better knowing that. All the excitement drained from her face and Reynie realized something he hadn't about Kate. Danger was Oxygen for her.

"I, for one, feel much better," Sticky announced and Kate frowned.

"Don't worry, Kate. You know trouble doesn't leave us be for long. You'll be collecting suitcases in the next month, if my hunch is right," Reynie said, half-smiling, half-anxious.

"Oh, Reynie, why would you _say_ that?" Sticky gasped miserably. Reynie gave him an apologetic look.

"What's your hunch, Reynie?" Kate asked, eyes bright.

"Well…" Reynie said slowly, beginning to pace. "Have you two noticed all these _surprises_ lately?"

"Sure," said Sticky, nodding his head. "The grownups have provided quite a few…" His eyes got big. " _Distractions_ ," he whispered.

"Exactly," said Reynie, unconsciously tapping his nose and pointing to Sticky. "But I also know that they know we know. "

Kate made a face, then her eyes cleared, "Got it. Gosh, why do you have to talk in tongue twisters Reynie?"

Reynie smiled, "Sorry. They see that we've noticed the distractions," he turned to Kate, brows raised. "Better?"

"Better," she said. "But… well, to put it frankly, don't we kind of… deserve this? I mean, look at all we've accomplished- I'm not even sixteen and I've helped save the world. Three times."

Reynie nodded, conceding, "Maybe you're right, Kate… I guess I could be grasping at a chance for another puzzle."

"But… there is something that's been bothering me," Sticky put in. "My parents have been away, you know, on a cruise for their anniversary. Of course, at first I was really glad to have a break from them," Sticky explained. Kate and Reynie exchanged looks. Sometimes, when Sticky spoke of his parents in annoyance, it hurt them, as prior orphans, because they would have traded anything in the world to find parents that truly loved them. Kate got her whish, at least half way, but Reynie… Sticky noticed the tension and put in hastily, "I do love my parents, you know I do. But that's not the point. You know how they fuss over me," Sticky pleaded.

"Well, yeah," Kate said. "Milligan gets like that sometimes. It drives me nuts. Continue."

"Okay, well, I've come to wonder… would they really leave me so soon? They- my mother in particular- fretted so much about leaving me behind. It's been a month. And… in my relief that they were leaving- and that I could have some freedom for a while- I just… ignored the odd feeling that I got."

"What feeling?" Reynie asked.

"That they were lying," Constance whispered in the door, making them all jump. The moment had become deeply intense in the silver moonlight of the dim kitchen. They had all started whispering, the dark mood luring them into secrecy. Sticky looked at Constance, who eyes fell to the floor, "Sorry. I should've let you say."

"No, it's not that," he said, his head cocked. "It's… I hadn't quite put my finger on the feeling… but that's it. They _were_ lying." Constance lifted her eyes and they shared a long, knowing look. Reynie got the feeling he was witnessing an unspoken conversation between two great minds: a conversation, which Kate interrupted.

"Will you _please,_ " she asked, flipping down from the chair and breaking their deep stares, "speak out loud? I'm going to fly out of the windows if someone doesn't explain this _right now._ "

"I think I can explain, but first, let's go into the living room where it's light. All this darkness is creeping me out," Reynie said, ushering them into the small circle room where they all took a seat on the floor, as was their custom.

Constance, though looking much relieved from the darkness, lay her head against the couch, a pucker between her eyes. Sticky went to sit with her, his hand lightly brushing away her hair from her forehead, "You alright Constance? Your hands still hurt?"

She smiled weakly, "No it's… sometimes I still get sick if I try reading minds long distance." Reynie noticed that Sticky didn't move his hand away, but continued making a circuit back and forth, back and forth over her wispy bangs. Despite the kind gesture, Constance's face fell rapidly and her eyes shown, her little throat bobbing in tight swallows. As if she were about to cry…

Reynie focused on the problem at hand, promising himself he'd ask Constance privately if she was all right later.

He rolled his eyes and stood abruptly, "I'm sorry, I just _have_ to pace." Kate laughed, the effect Reynie had hoped for- Kate's laugh was a light and, right now, it seemed awfully dark. His eyes followed the pattern of the carpet, stepping on the same embroidered rose every time he turned back to walk toward the window. "We're here for more than a vacation, agreed?" He asked.

"Sure feels that way," Kate said, impossibly sitting with her leg behind her head. Sticky looked sick watching her, but nodded, his eyes glued to her toes wriggling beyond her shoulder. She untwisted her leg and winked at Sticky, "Sorry pal, I forgot how that bugs you." Sticky coughed, bald head perspiring. "So, we know there's something else going on. The question is: what?"

Reynie looked hopefully at Constance, who shook her head, "Mr. Benedict has been keeping something from me, I can tell. But if he really doesn't want me to figure something out…"

"You don't want to invade his privacy, I get it," Kate finished for her.

"No, I literally _can't_ figure it. He's too strong for me. And _Uncle_ Ladroptha," she explained. Reynie smiled slightly at her attempt to make their nemesis's name light, but they all still shivered, Sticky most of all.

"Well," Reynie said slowly, "I might have an idea. I think it's to protect us."

"From who?" asked Sticky, his fingers sliding into his pocket and then quickly pulling back out when they remembered that they were excluded from that place.

"S.Q., I guess," Reynie said, shrugging. "But…"

"Wait, Reynie, you don't think…" Kate began, her eyes getting big. "You don't think they planning of freeing Mr. Curtain, do you?"

"He's under too much security, Kate," Reynie said assuredly.

She shrugged, having just about enough of the sitting still business, and sprang to her feet, tipping back to balance on one hand. "You never know. We got out of the prison last year and Milligan got out of the waiting room. Couldn't be so hard, especially with all his Ten Men, you know."

"That's true but…" Reynie was hesitant to give the piece of information he knew. He looked at Constance, who shrugged.

"I don't see any problem with them knowing, Reynie," she said.

"What is it?" Kate asked, excitedly coming down from her one-hand-stand. "Come on, Reynie, you gotta tell me now!"

Putting his hands deep in his pockets, Reynie said, "Well… it's just… I don't know that Mr. Benedict wanted me to know in the first place."

Kate fell playfully on her knees in front of him, puckering her bottom lip and making her deep blue eyes huge and pleading, "Please?" she said, dragging out the middle of the word. Sticky blinked hopefully and Constance smiled encouragingly.

Reynie found himself looking down into Kate's eyes for a moment too long. He closed his own to clear his head. "You guys can't gang up on me like this, seriously," Reynie said, shaking his head. He opened his eyes again to see that Sticky had joined Kate.

"My knees are getting sore here, Reynie," Sticky said and Kate nodded agreeing, trying to make her eyes bigger.

Reynie laughed, sitting down on the sofa, "Well, how am I suppose to resist that? Now I know how Milligan feels, Kate."

"Nah, he would have held out way longer," Kate said, standing up and stretching. "I've gotten quite good at begging."

"Apparently," Reynie said.

Kate came to sit beside him, slinging an arm over his shoulder. She batted her eyelashes and Reynie chuckled softly, trying to avoid her deep gaze, "So, oh wise one, we'd love to have this precious info. Just take your time."

Giving in, Reynie looked at Kate and smiled softly, "Well," he said. Kate hugged his side, knowing he was going to spill. "I happen to know that Mr. Benedict and Milligan put the security measures in place. Mr. Curtain no longer had residence in that jail, but in an obscure, heavily guarded prison in the country." He paused for a moment, letting the news sink in.

"They're… _moving_ Mr. Curtain?" Sticky said, his eyes wide. "Isn't that…?"

"Crazy?" Kate finished. "Reynie I don't believe that Milligan- or Mr. Benedict for that matter- would be stupid enough to put Mr. Curtain in such a… risky position! What if they lost him?"

"That's just it… it doesn't quite make sense. There _must_ be a reason for moving him. And I think it's connected to Kate's kidnapping," Reynie said slowly.

"That's aberrant," Sticky said, scratching his head.

"How am I supposed to know what you guys are talking about?" Constance asked desperately. Sticky gave her a look and she shook her head tiredly, "definition please?"

"Oh," he said and blushed. "It means odd."

"Why wouldn't you just say…?" Kate began, but shook her head. "Never mind. So, am I right in thinking that _this_ is the obscure country area you fellows think he's being moved to?"

Reynie shrugged, "That, or we're in exactly the opposite direction."

"But what about my parents? Why would they lie to me?" Sticky asked.

"That's the catch," Reynie said. "Milligan looks sad- almost like before when he's off his guard. Mr. Benedict is nervous. Your parents went away, Sticky, when they can hardly stand to be away from you for more than a moment… I think they went away to _stay out of the way."_

"Of… what?" Sticky asked, reaching for his nonexistent glasses.

"The thing to come," Reynie said, the puzzle coming together in his mind.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Wishes and waiting

Kate watched the boys as they ate dinner, thinking how brilliant her companions were. She hadn't suspected a thing about the trip and was feeling rather witless about it. It had taken Reynie all of five seconds to suspect a trap.

Sticky's mother, having knee problems, had recently transferred to a full-time wheel chair. She was not fight-worthy, Reynie had said, and needed to be protected. Kate argued that Mrs. Perumal was just as feeble and Reynie conceded but pointed out that she had no caring husband to talk her into leaving. Mrs. Perumal was one of the most stubborn people on the face of the planet. Perhaps that's why Patti (Miss Perumal) was so anxious and quiet lately. They had reasoned back and forth until the grownups came back, Mark lagging quietly behind, lantern aloft.

It was then that their suspicions were confirmed. Miss Perumal pulled Reynie aside, no longer having to lean down to speak to him.

She brushed his slanted bangs back lovingly, "Reynie," she said and he saw that she was heroically pushing back tears, "Amma isn't feeling well. She and are to return to Stone Town on tomorrow's first train back. If you wish, you may come with us."

Reynie saw right through her words, but let his eyebrows draw concernedly, "Is Pati all right?" He asked, turning around to look at his adopted grandmother and to avoid Miss Perumal's searching eyes.

"She'll be fine- all this country air has given her an allergy, she says, and, though I'd love to stay with you, she'll need me back at home."

"If it's all right," Reynie said, looking down in what he hoped Miss Perumal thought was embarrassment in his selfishness, "I would like to stay…"

"Of course, dear," she said, pulling Reynie into a much too affectionate hug for goodnight. This was goodbye. "I have to get to bed- I'm quite exhausted."

Reynie met her eyes and in that moment, they agreed on the lie that was better than the truth. They agreed on allergies over escapes and goodnight over goodbye. "I love you, Patti," he said carefully. "Goodnight."

She pecked his forehead quickly, blinking back the wet pooling in her eyes. "Goodnight, Reynie," she said and he translated it into goodbye in his head. "Sleep well." _Be safe._

~::~

Missing the privacy of his own room, Reynie trudged solemnly out to the barn. Sticky and Mark were playing chess, Constance observing and giving Sticky "hints" about what Mark's next move might be. He looked very annoyed, being very good at chess on his own.

Kate was inside, already in pajamas. Reynie reminded himself to knock next time. She beamed at him when he walked in and he feebly smiled back.

"Aw, don't look so down in the dumps, Reynie!" she said, retying her ponytail. Reynie suddenly wondered what her hair would look like down. "Aren't you just aching for another clue? Didn't the society meeting feel _wonderful_?"

Reynie had to admit it did feel wonderful to solve a puzzle again. He shrugged, his stomach squirming with guilt for the pleasure he took in it.

"Reynie Muldoon," she said, putting her hands on her hips and putting on an authoritative air. "Don't you get all mope and no hope on me now. I think Milligan covered all the sadness we need ever feel. Now, think about it this way," she said, sitting on the edge of her bed and patting the place next to her. Reynie sat beside her, willing to be cheered. "Your family will be safe while this –whatever it is- goes on. So will Sticky's. Milligan is… well, Milligan, and I think we know he can take care of himself," she smiled. "Mr. Benedict -especially now that he isn't liable to fall asleep on the job- is more than capable of handling his brother and whatever crooks join him this time around. Moocho and Cannonball and Captain Noland?" she asked. "Psh, They would love to kick some Ten Men briefcase," she said and Reynie smiled faintly. "And there's you boys and Constance and you've proven yourselves capable. I suspect Mark and his parents can handle the action… and then there's me," she grinned deviously, "a ten man's worst nightmare."

Reynie smiled at Kate. What fifteen-year-old girl was so confident? "You're right," Reynie said, forcing what courage he had to into his demeanor.

Grinning, Kate side-hugged him, "Course I am. We need you most of all, Reynie. Don't skip out on us."

"I won't." Reynie rose, stretching, "I'm going to bed. See you at breakfast," he said.

"Night," Kate said absently, fiddling with her bucket. Reynie started up the ladder. "Reynie?" Kate's voiced stopped him.

"Yeah?" he replied, his smile gone.

Kate looked at him for a long time and finally said, "Have I ever showed you my impersonation of a ceiling fan?"

Reynie smiled, "No, but I'd love to see it," he said, expecting her to spin.

A grin spread over her face. "Gooooo ceiling!" she yelled, pointing up to the open sky. She frowned, "It works better when there's an actual ceiling."

Reynie smiled. Then chuckled. Then laughed outright. "Kate… you're my best friend." He strode across the room and wrapped his arms briefly around her waist.

She returned the hug enthusiastically, "And you're mine, pal. Now, don't get wishy washy on me," she winked as he let go. "Up to bed with you."

"G'night Kate…. Thanks," he said, ascending the ladder.

Reynie cheeks burned from smiling so hard and he chuckled as he lay in bed, falling off to sleep. There was nothing like one of Kate's lame jokes and a bear hug to cheer you up.

~::~

Kate sighed, listening as Reynie disappeared into the loft. A soft knock at the door made her jump and she made herself take a breath before answering it. Mark was at the door, a slumbering Constance folded in his strong arms. He smiled winningly at Kate and her stomach flipped.

Kate put out her hands to take the little girl, saying softly as she could, "I'll take her."

Mark shook his head and edged silently into the room. His feet didn't make a sound on the hardwood. Kate dashed over to Constance's bed and turned down the covers. Mark slid her into bed and Constance made a dreamy sound, her little hands encircling her pillow.

With practiced hands, Kate slipped off Constance's shoes and tucked the blanket in around her. Mark looked down at her with affection.

"She makes me wish I had had a little sister," Mark sighed.

Kate snorted, "Believe me, you don't want her as a sibling. She's basically mine and it's a challenge."

Mark raised his eyebrows, "Really? She seems so sweet."

"Well," Kate admitted, "She has been lately. Wants to make a good impression, I guess. She's smarter than you may think."

"I know, she helped me win that chess game against- Sticky," Mark said, saying Sticky's name with an awkward pause as if he was not used to it yet.

"I think that's a first. No one- I've ever heard of anyway- has ever beaten Sticky at chess. But then again, I haven't seen him play Mr. Benedict. Where _is_ Sticky anyway? Shouldn't he be in bed?"

"He's on the phone with his parents. I think maybe he's a little homesick," Mark explained, a concerned pucker between his eyes.

"Maybe," Kate said, but she thought it was more likely he wanted to hear from them one more time before… whatever came next. She was gladder than ever that she had Milligan close by. "This day has been so exciting," Kate whispered over Constance's snores. They moved away from her bed and stood in the barn door frame. "I don't know how I'll ever get to sleep."

Mark smiled, "Me neither. I've been so anxious to meet you all and… living on a farm and being homeschooled, well… I don't have many friends."

"We're in the same boat, pal. And you seem to fit right in with us- consider yourself part of our group," said Kate kindly.

"Thanks- that means a lot. Hey, if you're not going to be able to sleep… would you want to help me gather some night crawlers for fishing tomorrow?" Mark asked, doubtfully.

"You mean worms?" Asked Kate, eyes alight.

Mark chuckled, "I don't think I've ever seen a girl get so excited over the prospect of digging for worm in the mud at night."

"Well, like I said, I'm not very good at being a girl," Kate shrugged. "But it sounds like it could be fun. I like mud."

"Alrighty then," Mark said, grinning, "I'm glad I don't have to go alone. Sometimes my father goes with me, but… not so much anymore now that I know the land so well and don't get lost anymore. Besides, he gets so tired these days."

While he was talking, Kate zipped inside, put on her bucket, shoes, and sweater and met him at the door, flashlight in hand.

Mark raised his eyebrows, "That couldn't have taken more than ten seconds," he said, consulting his watch. "I'd hate to find myself in a race against you."

"I don't know, you're pretty fast yourself," Kate said, but, to tell the truth she had never lost a race in her life- though she hadn't challenged Milligan, who might well be twice as fast. Honestly, she didn't know how he moved so quickly. "So where do we find our fishing bait?"

"I know a great place, but it's a bit of a walk," Mark said, leading her out into the dark.

"I'm up to it if you are," Kate said, cart wheeling out onto the grass. She did several slow motion back handsprings that looked very painful while Mark walked along beside her. She stood upright only to slide down onto her hands to walk on her palms for a few minutes. Mark's laugh brought her up again, "What?" She asked, embarrassed for what reason she knew not.

"You're just brimming with energy aren't you?"

"Oh," said Kate, not realizing that she'd been tumbling (it was as natural to her as walking). "I guess so." She stiffened to a regular walk, cheeks slightly red. Mark coughed, perhaps feeling her discomfort.

"I'd, um, like to meet Madge while you're here," Mark said presently.

Kate's eyes darted up from following the path of the flashlight, "I'll call her down tomorrow, if you'd like. She's very happy here, living off the land- and don't worry, I've trained her not to eat chickens… or at least, I _think_ I have. She stopped attacking ours last summer, but it's been a while," Kate admitted.

"It's alright," Mark said. "We have far too many chickens. We have more eggs than we know what to do with, actually, even after the sales and handouts to the neighbors. My dad stopped naming them after fifty… they're all numbered. Kind of sad to think they don't have names… so I gave them little… titles," he said, suddenly reaching up to rub the back of his neck and clear his throat. "I'm sorry. This must sound incredibly boring to you."

"No, no," said Kate, waving her hands. She suppressed a yawn, cursing the timing of it. "No, I'm strong believer in names- and nick names. Like, I always try to get my friends to call me The Great Kate Weather Machine, but… it didn't work out. Reynie and Sticky have nicknames- Sticky's name is actually George-"

"Wait… George _Washington_?" Cut in Mark, with a smirk.

"Yeah. It's better not to tease him about it. Reynie's name is Reynard- Milligan's name isn't even Milligan."

"What _is_ his name then? That's how I was introduced to him," Mark said, brow furrowed.

Kate blushed, "I- I don't actually know. And I don't want to. He will always be Milligan to me. That's how I met him and how… he remembered me." And at Mark's questioning Kate told the whole story about her life at the circus and how she believed she'd been abandoned. "So you see," she concluded, "the last thing he remembered was me- when I was two- asking if we could go to the _mill again_. See?"

Mark nodded, impressed, "That's a beautiful story, really, Kate. What it must have felt like to realize that… you _weren't_ abandoned and that somebody…" he took her hand for Kate's eyes were full of tears, "loved you."

Kate looked down at their hand and blinked the tears from her eyes. Mark squeezed and let go. Grimacing, Kate apologized, "I'm so sorry I've been rambling this whole time."

"That's quite alright- I love listening… And I love talking. When you get me started, it's a miracle to shut me up, honest," Mark said.

"I'll let you talk on the way back then," Kate promised.

"Alright, you asked for it," Mark said with a wink. Kate suddenly became self-conscious of her apparel- striped pajama pants and a heavy jacket. They walked out into a clearing. "Here we are," Mark said, kneeling down.

They collected worms, chatting and competing to find the biggest night crawler, teasing that no fish were worthy of such worms. Kate was proud of their hall- the bag Mark brought was heavy with squirming bait.

When they finished and dusted off their hands, Mark looked and Kate and bit his lip, considering something. "Hey Kate? Can you… keep a secret?"

"You have the Kate Wetherall guarantee," she said jubilantly.

Mark smiled shyly. "I… I have this place that I like to go sometimes at night… I haven't shown anyone else… It's where I like to think. Could I- maybe, would you like to see it?"

"Sure," said Kate. "Sometimes… having a place all to yourself can be… lonely. It's like a clubhouse with one member- not much of a club. I get it. It's nice to have somebody else just… _know_."

Mark looked at her for a long time, an expression of gratitude on his face, "Come on. It's this way."

They trudged off through the woods and past a creek and then emerged onto a sudden bluff. Kate gave a low whistle.

Mark walked casually to the edge and swung his legs over as if he'd done it a thousand times. Kate joined him, the dizzying heights not fazing her in the least. The moon shown, full bloom, from the starry sky. Their extended arms crossed behind them at the elbow.

"This… is breathtaking," Kate said, free hand over her heart. She felt it beat, a little faster than usual, at the sight. The land below was a painting- an enormous, perfect painting.

"I've been wanting to paint it for so long," Mark said, as if reading her thoughts. "But somehow… I can never get it right."

"Hm," said Kate, lost in the beauty of the land. The miniature houses below were quiet and lightless, but by the glow of the moon, she could make out the doors and windows on both the house and the barn. From where she was, she could almost see through Reynie's window. The crickets sang and frogs croaked from the creek. She felt content here. "I see why you like this place."

Mark sighed, standing and offering his hand to help her up. Kate took it and looked into his wet, blue eyes. "Thanks… for coming with me. I haven't showed anyone this place. It belongs to my brother- Nick- and I… but I'm so afraid… that'll just be mine," he murmured, hanging his head. "I had to show someone… just in case."

"If he's anything like you," Kate said, lifting his chin, "he'll be just fine."

Mark gave her a weak smile and pulled her into a hug, his strong arms encircling her waist, bucket and all, and folding over her back. Kate hugged him back, unusually soft and let him swallow the lump she knew was in his throat. Hadn't she felt just the same about Milligan when he was away doing dangerous things?

She patted his shoulder, giving him a comforting squeeze, after a minute and stepped back, keeping a hand loosely on his shoulder, "He'll be alright," she assured him.

They moved off together through the woods, the worm bag balanced on top of Kate's bucket. After Mark regained his voice, he made good on his promise and talked the whole way back, sharing antidotes about the farm and the adventures he and his brother used to go on together, each tale greeted with a silver laugh from Kate.

~::~

Reynie got out of bed, pacing and looked over the rail at Constance, soundly asleep. Sticky had come to bed an hour ago and snored now from across the room. He'd heard Kate leave with Mark- indeed, the sound of the barn door closing had woken him. But she still hadn't returned. He went and sat by the window, knowing very well that he wouldn't sleep until she came back. His brain caught a difference in the view from his window than it had been the last fifty times he checked. Two figures stood silhouetted on the distant bluff, one clearly a boy, with cropped hair and the other… a broad-shouldered with a bucket on her hip. They stood close to one another and then blurred into an embrace. Or perhaps Reynie's tears had done the blurring. He closed his eyes to the scene and returned to his bed.

~::~

His stomach felt knotted when he woke. He lay still, trying to zero in on what had woken him. The sun barely peeped through the window, weak rays quietly interrupting the shade on the dark wood. Mark stood across the room, taking off his pajama shirt and replacing it with a button up red one, cut clumsily at the sleeves. He put on his hat and turned to see Reynie, sliding out of bed.

Mark's eyes were heavy, but glad, "Good morning," he said quietly. "You ready to go fishing?"

"Sure," Reynie said, hastily shaking Sticky and awake and scampering to dress. He put on long pants (as Mark advised) and a short sleeved shirt, tying a jacket around his waist. He did a half decent job brushing his teeth and accepted the toast Mark offered as they headed downstairs.

Kate was already ready, twisted in some odd position in the middle of the floor. She sprang out of it, like a Jack out of the box, and dashed to meet the boys.

"Good morning, fellows!" Kate greeted, her voice in a whisper for Constance's sake. She ran to open the door and ran out into the morning as if the day would not wait. "Come on!" she called, now in her normal voice.

Mark silently closed the door after letting the boys trail in front. Sticky might have been sleepwalking, his feet trudging across the earth, eyes half-open. Reynie nudged him and he jumped, but when he saw there was no danger, slid back into the daze. Reynie wondered if he had slept at all last night. It sure sounded like it by his heavy snores.

Cannonball and Milligan appeared from the house, laughing softly over some matter. They too had breakfast in hand. Kate sprang to Milligan's side, snatching part of his bagel before realizing he had her toast above her head. She made a face at him and Milligan chuckled, tweaking her chin with his free hand, "Good morning my Katie-Cat. Where's my kiss?"

"Morning," she said and went up on tiptoe and kissed her father on the cheek and received her toast in reward. She, on the other hand, popped the cream cheese-smothered bagel piece into her mouth before Milligan could retrieve it. She slipped out of Milligan's arms, dashing over to walk with Reynie, giggling over her shoulder.

Mark came to walk on her other side, Sticky beside him. "Won't Constance be mad that we didn't invite her?" Sticky grumbled, his voice heavy with sleep. He looked cross- actually quite a bit like the little girl in question.

"Constance doesn't like early mornings _or_ fishing, Sticky," Kate reminded him. "Or worms for that matter," she added reflectively. "But, yes, she'll most like be angry with us-she always is and, well, us going somewhere without her is a downright convenient excuse to be grumpy, isn't it?"

Sticky grunted, accepting the explanation. Reynie would have laughed, but he was too tired and disappointed in last night's discoveries. Mark, however, grinned, saying, "And if you woke her now and _did_ include her, she'd be grumpy because she doesn't like fishing. It's a paradox."

"So it's really a matter of her being grumpy now or being grumpy later," Kate said, her nose scrunched up in concentration as if she were trying to solve a difficult puzzle. "But I think, with added sleep, the latter is the better option. Don't you agree, Reynie?"

He pretended to weight the options, "I agree," he said presently. He had wanted to come up with a wittier reply, but he was too distracted by the way Mark kept looking sidelong at Kate, who didn't return the glances but kept walking energetically as usual. Yet, Reynie was sure she noticed Mark's attention- Kate wasn't one to miss minor details, let alone blatantly obvious ones.

Feeling uncomfortable, Reynie shifted slowly to walk with adults. He cleared his throat (inside realizing that he'd rather be around Milligan- who knew he liked Kate- than Kate herself when Mark was around. _Jealously_ , he admitted to himself bitterly.) and asked conversationally, "Why aren't the others here? I would think Mr. Benedict and Captain Noland would love fishing." Reynie didn't include Mr. Cole, suspecting that he had farm chores to attend to.

"They do," Milligan said, nodding to Reynie. "They just had important business to attend to. As you know, Miss Perumal and her mother left very early this morning for the train station. Captain Noland offered to escort them and Mr. Benedict went along- they have… private affairs in the city."

From the way Milligan said "escort" Reynie suspected that he meant more than dropping them off at the train station. Looking Milligan squarely in the eye, Reynie said slowly, "Amma didn't tell me they were leaving so early." It was an accusation. "She probably didn't _trust_ me not to ask her to stay- or else really stay behind myself," he covered smilingly, though his emphasis on the word trust was meant as a hint. Inside he begged imploringly, _tell us what's going on, you can trust us._

Milligan looked at him, his eyes calculating and impressed somehow. "Maybe… you could ask Mr. Benedict about his business in town when he gets back." Reynie took this as access to Milligan's respect. They both nodded subtly and walked on, the dewy grass growing thick around their ankles.

Mark led the way toward a now visible pond, walking a fence rail and swinging his leg around the stake each time he came to one. He did this without looking; obviously having memorized the path, for the distance between stakes seemed often uneven (Kate would know by what degree). One hand was in his pocket, the other ejaculating at head level while he conveyed a story that Kate and Sticky apparently found humorous.

Reynie was mesmerized, watching the steady pendulum-like swish of Kate golden hair, first catching on the edge of her bucket and then swinging back toward her hand, placed on her other hip. To him, it was a waterfall of sunlight, occasionally spurting with the force of her laughter. He could see her profile from here- her slight, slanting nose, eyelashes (so long they were obvious even at a distance), and her prominent chin, always lifted confidently.

Milligan coughed and made him jump. Cannonball had quietly moved forward, slipping past Reynie's notice. A trap. Milligan began subtly, but Reynie knew it was coming, "Mark and Kate seem to be getting along well," he commented.

Reynie shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes, "He's great company- almost as energetic as she is."

They both watched as Mark began walking backwards on the rail. Milligan chuckled softly, "Almost. You and Kate have been friends for a while now."

"Mhm," said Reynie awkwardly, not wanting to face the fire that was Milligan's eyes burning into his forehead. "She- and Sticky and Constance- are my best friends. Always will be." He tried to give his words a conclusive air.

It didn't work. "But Kate's different."

It wasn't a question. "I know that," he said quietly. "She is… incomparable." He all but whispered the last words and said them more for his benefit than Milligan's. It was a confession. "But- even after everything we've been through- we're young," Reynie said carefully. "We're children." He desperately hoped that was what Milligan wanted to hear.

Every muscle in Milligan's body relaxed. They were quiet for a while, far behind the others who were already settling by the pond. "No… Kate's not a child anymore," Milligan said presently and Reynie had the odd feeling the Milligan had forgotten his presence. "Look at her- all grown up. And so… beautiful. So like her mother."

Reynie's stomach flipped. Milligan, as far as he knew, had never said anything specific about Kate's mother. "You should tell her that, Milligan," Reynie said quietly and their eyes met for the first time during the conversation. "I know she'd like to hear it."

"I know," Milligan said. "I'm saving it."

"For what?" Reynie asked, quizzically.

"For when she needs to be brave again."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Battles and Bravery

Between the six of them, four were decent fishers, but only three of them had the patience to sit around and wait for the fish to bite. Kate, however, being Kate, figured a way to multitask. She both explored and fished (skimming the bait expertly of the water, like a foolish fly), while explaining to a panting Reynie and Sticky (both of whom were trying to stay in league with her jaunty gait) the precise science of fishing.

Not wanting to "waste" any bait, Kate began by talking the boys through the steps (though both were pretty sure they grasped the concept of baiting and casting by now, either by common sense or previous study). She had caught three fat fish by the time she let Reynie and Sticky lay hands on their rods (which were stored in a shack to the left of the pond).

Mark strode over, his five fish stacked neatly in a bucket, "Can I help? I've never taught anyone to fish before."

"Sure," Kate said, "It's your pond, I think you have the right."

"Would you rather split or teach together?" Mark asked.

Color radiated up Kate's neck to gently touch her cheeks, "There's no need to separate," she said hastily. "U-unless you think it'll be more effective that way."

"Nah, it'll be fun," Mark said. He fiddled with the hook at the end of his line, twisting colorful bait onto it. He proceeded to show them how throw a proper cast. Reynie caught on immediately, but Sticky had more trouble, the sharp point of the hook making him nervous and unfortunately causing his palms to sweat, which made his fishing pole slippery. It was spiraling circle of cause and effect.

Mark- infinitely more patient than Kate- helped Sticky untangle his pole from the brush behind him and attempted to bring the color down from Sticky's face.

Kate watched Reynie cast, scrutinizing his every move. He felt her eyes on his form, locking in on his stance, wrist, fingers. He swallowed hard, brought the pole back, and sent the line sailing. The hook slapped the water.

"Reynie, how many times have I told you? Gently, _gently_ ," she reminded him, shaking her head.

He half-smiled, sheepish, "I can't help it. You're making me nervous."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Here, your problem is in the wrist," she came up behind him and slid her fingers around his wrist. "Good grief, Reynie, _relax_ ," she said and Reynie let his muscles down from their stiffened position. "Now, cast with me." Her fingers encircled his shoulder, placing gentle pressure there. Her voice was a low murmur at his ear, "One…two… _three_ ," she said and the line flailed out over the twin blues, a thin dividing line between pond and sky. "Good!" Kate praised, clapping Reynie on the back.

He laughed, surprised, "I- I did it."

"You're a natural," Kate said encouragingly. "Just loosen up a bit and have _fun_."

Kate had hardly taken two steps before Reynie's bobber sank, tugging the line mightily after it. Reynie dug his heals in the bank, pulling back with all his strength. His hands fumbled to reel in his catch, steadily, just as Kate had taught him. Everyone on the bank began to cheer heartily and his instructor smiled proudly.

Until the fish came into view. It was black, stiff, and square. A handle protruded from, not a fish, but a briefcase.

~::~

"You know," said a menacing voice, carried by a hefty body exiting the woods, "I've told him to be more cautious, but at this point I'm afraid there's no hope for him."

Milligan drew his dart gun out of nowhere, "Children, get behind me, now," he said calmly.

Reynie helped Sticky up (he had fallen in surprise and dismay) and Kate grabbed his wrist, jolting both he and Sticky forward (and very nearly pulling his arm out of his socket). She flipped her bucket open.

Reynie peered over Milligan's shoulder, watching McCracken advance. The Ten Men was in a state of ruin. His cheeks and neck were bleeding, his suit in tatters, tree parts clinging to his hair and clothing. Most of one pant leg was missing, a large purple bruise covering the entire front of his ankle. But gripped in his hand, fully in tact, was the dreaded briefcase.

So there were at least two, another one, weaponless (except for evil intention) roaming the land unless…. Reynie's stomach dropped. Had the other (Crawlings, he guessed) drowned? He pushed the thought away, but his gut churned.

"Joe," Milligan muttered over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off McCracken, "Go with Mark and run. Warn the others. He's after us, not you. Take Sticky if you can, I think he may faint."

With his brawny sailor arms, Cannonball heaved a hyperventilating Sticky onto his shoulder and took off running, but Mark stayed determinedly behind, saying, "If I can, sir, I'd like to help."

Milligan sighed heavily, "I thought as much. For now, stay behind me. I don't think it's safe for you all to run quite yet."

"And I _won't_ run, Milligan," Kate steamed. "You need me."

Milligan nodded once, knowing now, not only that he would loose this battle with Kate, but also that he couldn't win the one against McCracken without her.

McCracken stumbled forward, smiling like a lunatic. He swung his briefcase, slamming it into a tree. Milligan raised his gun, closing one eye slowly as he took aim. McCracken stumbled on, not taking cover or even seeming to see Milligan. Reynie supposed he was blinded by revenge.

Or perhaps… more than revenge.

Reynie watched the man carefully: his eyes roamed lazily over the scene, never really resting on them or anything at all, for that matter. It was like he was searching for something. McCracken wandered closer, only a few steps from the gun's range. Eyes drifting down to the bruised leg, Reynie's mind buzzed, taking in the black-blue splotch again…

"Milligan don't shoot," Reynie murmured.

Kate made a sound of disbelief, "What are you talking about?" She hissed vehemently. "He's walked right into range- what are you-"

"That's just it," Reynie said, stepping confidently out from behind the Milligan shield. McCracken's eyes locked on his. Milligan, who had not expected Reynie to do such a foolish thing, tried to reach for him, but too late.

Mustering a weak smile, Reynie waved at McCracken, "Good morning," he called loudly.

McCracken's brows furrow, but he lifted his free hand in greeting. Reynie edged forward, only hardly daring to breathe. The Ten Man stopped walking, watching Reynie curiously.

"That looks heavy," Reynie said evenly, gesturing toward the briefcase. "You've walked a long way. May I carry it for you?" He put out a hand and stepped forward. McCracken at first recoiled, pressing the briefcase against his chest with both hands. "I'll give it back as soon as you ask for it, honest."

Apparently realizing his exhaustion, McCracken let his frame sigh to a stoop, hands lax on the handle. Reynie pressed forward and McCracken put out his hands, depositing the briefcase in Reynie's reaching arms, like a child giving up a toy before bed.

"Thank you," Reynie said. "Now, let's say we get you somewhere to rest a while?"

McCracken nodded, letting Reynie support him (or at least try) on his injured side, one hand guiding the big man, the other wrapped around the deadly briefcase. Reynie turned to see the others gaping at him as he led the confused McCracken around the pond, crooning to him like he would a child.

Milligan opened his mouth, and then closed it again, shaking his head. Kate finally asked the question for her father, "What, in the name of hullabaloo, just happened?"

Reynie made a gentle shushing sound before murmuring, "Neurotoxin." He handed an astounded Mark the briefcase, saying quietly, "Don't open that."

Milligan's eyes cleared, understanding flooding in to replace the confusion and amazement, "A strong one."

Kate shook her head, tried to form words, and finally just said, "What?"

"Snake bite," Reynie clarified, carefully smiling at McCracken, who was holding his head in pain and slight bemusement. He addressed the huge man now, his hand still steadying his great arm, "Let's get you somewhere comfy to lie down, okay?"

"A _rattlesnake_ bite," Mark said, understanding. "But… how on earth did you know?"

"His ankle," said Reynie, retaining a pleasant expression. "And the way he was stumbling around. Very unlike him… But, Milligan, we have to get to the house. There will be others. I think it's likely he was posted here just in case we tried to escape and got bitten hidden in the brush."

"Where _is_ Spenser, do you know?" McCracken asked of Milligan. "I can't seem to find him _anywhere._ "

Milligan blinked, "I, uh…" he stared at his enemy and finally decided on a welcoming, amused smile that lit his blue eyes, "You know, I think I saw up at the house."

"My head hurts something awful," he said, hand pressed against his forehead. "And my _leg_."

"I know it does," Milligan said quietly. Reynie had heard him use the same tone of voice when he spoke to Sticky, Constance or himself when they were hurt. Kate didn't complain or get hurt very often. At least, not without good reason and even then she didn't accept meaningless words of comfort very well. "And I'll fix you up just as soon as I can. Just come with me." He traded places with Reynie, firmly taking hold of McCracken's pinstriped suit sleeve.

"I like your bucket, little girl," McCracken said, stepping toward Kate. Milligan steered him away, still wary of the man that had caused them (his daughter in particular) so much pain. Over his shoulder, he grinned and said, "Red's my favorite color. Roses are red, you know. And fire." Milligan agreed enthusiastically, pulling him up the bank toward the house.

Kate put her hands on her hips, no doubt indignant of the use of " _little girl_ " even from a delusional Ten Man. "Remind me to repaint my bucket _blue,_ " Kate seethed.

Reynie was going to laugh and remind Kate that McCracken wasn't in his right mind, thus she might take his unintentional insult as a compliment (as he most likely meant it as such), but a something small caught and stuck in his mind's filter. Small, yes, but important…. _very_ important. He grabbed Kate's arm, yanking her to a stop, eyes wide, "Constance."

~::~

Reynie didn't hear Milligan's calls. Surely he'd already remembered her, but didn't want one of the children to take off recklessly on a lone rescue mission just as Reynie did now. As if from a cannon, Kate shot after him, Mark close at her heals. Milligan was left behind them with the potentially dangerous McCracken, who was waving fondly after the children.

Reynie had never run so fast in his life. He sprinted up hill, keeping in stride with Kate, Mark just behind them. It couldn't have been more than an hour since they left. But that was plenty of time for the Ten Men to retrieve what they wanted… Reynie thought he might loose his breakfast to the spinning earth before him.

"Constance!" he called in a strangled voice. No answer. They burst into the barnyard. The world was eerily quiet, distant animal sounds brushing the misty air. "Constance!" Reynie called again, this time a lament.

Kate, who had rushed into the barn, came out white-faced, slowly shaking her head. The house door opened slowly and Mark reappeared, very much in the same state, but he clutched a note in his hand.

Rushing forward, Kate ripped the paper from his hands and read it through, a sad expression on her face, "Number Two, Rhonda, Moocho, and Violate went to the farmer's market, Reynie. They weren't even here when… she was all alone. They thought she was with us," Kate put a hand to her head like she was dizzy. "This is my fault."

Reynie roughly grabbed her wrists. Her eyes snapped up to meet his, surprised. "Don't you _dare_ blame yourself." Kate swallowed, lost in Reynie's expression, but made herself nod. He'd never looked at her like that before. "Good. Now, we have to find Sticky and Cannonb-"

Right on cue, Joe Shooter staggered around the side of the barn. "They took her," he gasped. Mark's breath caught audibly in his throat. "And Sticky." Cannonball pressed against his side in pain, his clothing stained dark.

"Sticky?" Asked Reynie, shocked. He had felt certain the Ten Men would only take Constance, not wanting to deal with the extra weight. "Why would they-?"

Cannonball's eyes were full of tears and pride, "He wouldn't let go of her. They aren't far, but they have a helicopter- I saw it landing. Where's Milligan?"

"Wouldn't let go?" Reynie repeated. His heart jumped into his throat. What courage it must have taken for Sticky to accomplish such a thing… he couldn't imagine.

"Oh Sticky…" Kate whispered, coming to the same conclusion.

"I'll go back for Milligan," Mark offered and took off running, leaving the briefcase behind in the dirt. Reynie suspected he left to give he and Kate a moment to process what happened.

"Which way did they go?" Kate asked, her voice shrill. The lioness was coming through again, Reynie saw, as she clenched her jaw and fists rapidly, staring daggers into Cannonball.

"They were up by the trees- overlooking that orphanage. The helicopter was waiting for them near some odd little dome-like building. Sticky and I must have arrived only a minute after—he was the one that noticed the footprints- the land is soft here- and we ran after them… I had no idea that he would… that he could fight like that."

Reynie, who was concerned for Cannonball, made him sit down not wanting him to pass out from blood loss. "I wonder why she didn't try to " _talk"_ to me," Reynie said, tapping his head. Kate's brow furrowed.

"She was unconscious," Cannonball explained, his eyes growing drowsy. Kate produced a rag from her bucket and pressed it against Cannonball's side. "They probably put her out while she was still sleeping."

The horrific image of those dreaded watches dominated Reynie's thoughts. He imagined Sticky, surely brutally wounded, crouched over her still body, the helicopter blade circling overhead. He couldn't think coherently and sat down, hard, on the grass.

"Oh, Reynie not you too," Kate sighed, waving her hands to give him air. "We need sane people right now, not— Oh for crying out loud."

Right then, McCracken appeared, Milligan and Mark on either side. His happy slurs were long gone and he was doubled over in pain, cursing, "Let _go_ of me. Where's Spenser? I know you have him." McCracken twisted, sending Mark sprawling. Milligan, however, managed to keep a good grip.

Kate helped Mark up, offering him too a rag (for his nose had unfortunately collided with McCracken's elbow). Reynie assisted Milligan escort the Ten Men (who was now attempting to fight) inside. One they got him in a chair, Milligan barred his arm over the big man's shoulders, pinning him to the chair and tugged the handkerchief from McCracken's pocket and pressed it against his threatening mouth. They all sighed when his muscles finally slacked.

"He's going to die if we don't get him medicine," Milligan said bluntly. "It may already be too late."

Reynie watched Kate recoil, her eyes narrowing, her face burning with rage. She held her tongue though and went back out to help Cannonball while Mark looked for medicine. Reynie followed, stopping her in the hallway. They retreated to a private corner and Reynie took her hand earnestly, "I know. I know it's hard. But we can't let him die."

"Why?" she seethed. "He would let _us_ die and you know it." Her eyes were blazing, "Why should we help him, Reynie? He deserves to-"

"No. Don't say that," Reynie said firmly. Kate flinched back from his stern expression. Apparently he was better at reprimanding her than Milligan. "No one deserves to die like that, Kate, especially when there are good people available to help. Listen," he said, this time more gently. "If not for his sake, for mine, for _yours_ —could you live with his blood on your hands? I know he wouldn't save us- any of us- but isn't that the very thing that makes us different?" He didn't wait for her to reply, but turned away, not wanting to look into her eyes another moment.

Outside, Cannonball had managed a sitting position. Reynie knelt by him, taking in his white face, "You need rest and a doctor. What was it?" An eerie calm had taken Reynie over. His only thought, his soul purpose, was to rescue his friends. There wasn't room for fear.

"Clip board," he wheezed.

"Let me see it," Reynie said, removing the cloth. He helped the young sailor unbutton his shirt, revealing a series of cuts, the largest- and most dangerous- at his side. "We have to clean it so it doesn't get infected. Milligan will call the doctor. Do you think you can walk if I help you?"

Cannonball nodded, watching the boy in no small amazement. Reynie pulled him up and let him lean against his shoulder. Mark, recovered from his nosebleed (it didn't appear to be broken) helped Reynie situate Cannonball inside.

Milligan was on one knee, cutting away McCracken's pant leg. He didn't look up when Reynie came to his side, "I called the police and few special operatives- they're on their way with an ambulance." Pulling away the fabric, Milligan began to clean the puncture wounds with an ointment.

"What's that?" Reynie asked.

"Something of Mr. Cole's creation," he said, carefully binding the wound in white cloth.

"Saved my life last year," Mark said from the corner, also consumed in his work. He wound similar gauze around Cannonball's mid section. He tugged the shirt back down around the sailor and smiled, "My dad is something of a genius when it comes to medicine. I didn't even have to go to the doctor."

Milligan stood and beckoned for Kate. He pressed her into his arms for a moment, closing his eyes. Reynie suddenly realized what Milligan must have gone through. He had just saved the life of his daughter's kidnapper and attempted assassin, as well as his own. Kate's hands clung around her father's back and they simply stood for a moment, quietly. Reynie and Mark turned and pretended to assist Cannonball.

Finally, Milligan stepped away from his daughter, keeping his hand on her shoulders. She was too tall now, for him to kneel when he spoke, but he leaned his head down against hers and murmured, "I am so _proud_ of you, Katy. And I know that sometimes… the worst battles take place in our heads," he kissed her forehead, "and our hearts."

Kate nodded stiffly, "Sometimes… I can't believe my thoughts are even mine. We're not… _I'm_ not the one who should be thinking… the way I do."

"It doesn't matter what you think- it only matters what thoughts you act on," Milligan reassured her. "And today you were a hero."

Kate laughed breathily, "Today isn't over."

Milligan agreed, stepping back, "No, it isn't. Now, would you mind getting that briefcase for me, Katie-Cat?"

She dashed out of the room and Milligan smiled fondly after her. She was back in under a minute with, not only McCracken's briefcase, but also the one Reynie had caught.

Milligan went to work as the sirens bellowed over the farm. He formed super-strength handcuffs from paper-clip chains for each of McCracken's hulking wrists and replaced the handkerchief with a spare he found in a zipper pouch. Cocking his ear, he listened, eyes calculating, "They'll be here in, oh, a minute- minute and a half. We need to go or we'll be too long detained." He turned to Mark, "Can I ask something of you?" He said, his hand heavily on the boys shoulder.

He nodded, blue eyes hard, "Yes sir."

"Someone needs to stay here- watch over McCracken. I know he seemed harmless today… but you've heard the stories. If he stirs- even a little or you only _think_ he _might_ have moved, press this cloth over his mouth and nose and let him breathe several deep breaths. Warn the police and EMTs of his condition and strength and let them know who he is," he said evenly. "If the police ask, tell them that I said we went east, alright?"

"Yes sir," Mark repeated, this time with less gusto. Reynie felt sure that he had hoped to be asked to assist them in the rescue of their friends.

"Your father will be here any moment, now that he's heard the sirens. Tell him what I have told you," Milligan said. "Do you understand?"

In answer, Mark paced to the window, stationing himself there, "Go," he said confidently.

Milligan beckoned to Kate and Reynie, tipping his hat to first Mark and then Cannonball saying, "Hang in there, Joe."

The sailor winked back, but couldn't find the strength to reply. Milligan ushered Kate and Reynie out the door and they broke into a run. "I'm afraid we can't take the car," he sighed after a time, hardly fazed by their rapid pace. "They'll be on the look out for any vehicles. It's not that I don't trust the police," Milligan clarified, turning to look at Kate and Reynie (one of which was nodding along with what he said, the other panting and trying to look conscious and doing his best not to gasp for breath). "But I want you to understand that at least one among them is a spy for Mr. Curtain."

"What makes you say that?" Kate asked when Reynie couldn't manage. When she raised her eyebrows at him, he nodded, communicating that she had asked the correct question. Kate beamed.

Milligan sighed, "I directly ordered that that plane be apprehended. Apparently the mission was unsuccessful and no one told me that it failed. That's more than a misunderstanding."

Kate nodded knowingly and Reynie tried not to pant too loudly. They were at a brisk jog (a sprint for Reynie), but he didn't want them to turn back for his sake, even though his legs were burning. He tried to nod with Kate but found that it made him dizzy. Instead, he chose to look as agreeable as he could, which most of his effort. He squinted his eyes against the morning sun. Had so much occurred so fast? He sheltered his eyes, but realized that having his hand lifted impaired his breathing.

Reynie suddenly stopped, the sudden action jarring his being. _They were running toward the sun._ Meeting Milligan's concerned gaze, he wheezed, "We're headed west."

Milligan shifted uncomfortably, "Yes."

"But you told Mark we were going _east_ ," Reynie said. He heard Kate inhale sharply.

"I told him to tell the police that _I said_ we were going east. I hate to lie, you know I do." It was true- Milligan was perhaps the most honest person Reynie knew. "But, unfortunately, it was necessary. And," he half-smiled, "it wasn't _exactly_ a lie. We will head east _eventually._ But for now, we really do need to move. It's only a little further, Reynie. Do you need us to slow down?"

"No," Reynie said, almost defensively. "No, thank you. I can manage."

They pushed on again at the same rapid pace (though Reynie felt sure it was faster.), Milligan in the lead, Reynie behind him, and Kate, hand hovering over her bucket, ready for action, taking up the rear. Reynie soon learned that a "little further" for Milligan meant several miles with thirty second breaks every half mile or so. These, Reynie knew, were for his benefit only. Milligan never broke a sweat and Kate went so far as to run in place when they stopped.

The sun was directly overhead by the time the group finally slowed to a walk. Milligan led them past a stream, where Kate got down on her knees to drink, but Reynie put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head, "You shouldn't."

Kate gave him a questioning look, "Why?"

Reynie and Milligan exchanged looks, not wanting to scare Kate. Milligan sighed, kneeling down to match his daughter's position. "Remember, Katie-Cat, the fish Reynie caught this morning?"

Kate nodded, confused, "The briefcase…" her eyes widened with understanding and her face grew pale. "If the Ten Man drowned, then—"

"The water may be poisoned," Milligan said, cutting her off. "This stream is downhill from the pond and water moves quickly. We must be cautious." He drew a canteen from thin air (quite a natural thing to for Milligan) and bade them drink, not taking any water himself. Reynie constrained himself to small sips even though he wanted to down the whole thing and pour the rest down his shirt.

From there, they began to hike, making a tight triangle, Milligan at its point, the children walking side by side. Reynie thought of his friends, of tiny Constance in the hands of the Ten Men, reckless Sticky with her. He tried to reach the small girl's thoughts, but all her found was silence.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Sticky Situations

Sticky clung to Constance, his hands clenched around her collar in a deadly grip. Her expression, eyes lightly closed in unconsciousness, was troubled as if she were having a bad dream. Unable to dethatch him from her, the Ten Man (a new recruit named Jefferson) had handcuffed his wrists around the little girl and chained them both to the wall of the helicopter.

His head ached terribly (being bigger than Constance, he had woken from the effect of the shock watches before her). Although he knew he should be scared out of his wits (he was, to tell the truth) and wishing he had stayed behind, safe with the protections of the adults- Milligan in particular, he was glad to be here… if only for Constance's sake. She looked so small in her shock-induced sleep, her eyes scrunched closed, her lips protruding grumpily, cheeks ruddy. Sticky's fingers idly twisted around her wispy hair, his eyes fixed on Jefferson, staring daggers into his own shifting gray, bespectacled eyes.

Crawlings sat beside him, eating a sandwich and looking perfectly comfortable, "You know," he said, swallowing a mouthful, "if the boss finds he has no use for you… well, at least you got to take a helicopter ride before you," he winked, "you know. I wonder if he'll let me take care of you- it would be an especial pleasure, see as you and I are friends."

Sticky growled unintelligible words through his gag (fortunately, for what he had to say should never reach the ears of a lady—even a very small, unconscious one) and Crawling laughed as if Sticky were a harmless kitten pretending to be fierce. Sticky, though, felt more like a caged tiger. He was ready to strike the moment they let up their guard.

"What happened to your glasses, Duckling?" He asked, noticing the bareness of the boy's face. "Lose them in the fight, did you?" He chuckled, "By the size of them, you'll be quite blind without them. But don't you fret; you don't need to see where you're going. In fact, it might be easier, not seeing the end." He poked out his lip, "Not so Scawy."

Sticky, who could see perfectly well (he had his contacts in) pretended to squint and look dismayed. It was a small advantage, but an advantage all the same. And, including it, that made exactly one advantage in this situation. They were up too high to escape to anything except a long fall and a lot of broken bones (if not death) and beside that, Constance was out cold and appeared to be settled that way. Sticky began to worry that she wouldn't wake up (He'd heard of people going into a coma when knocked out). He shifted his eyes down, not wanting Crawlings to think the tears there were for him. Letting his fingers gently sweep her hair behind her ears, Sticky spoke softly, barely making noise at all, "I'll get us out of here, Connie-girl," he smiled, knowing this was the only time he'd ever be able to use her nickname and not pay dearly for it, "I promise."

"Aw," Crawlings said, "Wook at dat. So sweet togeder." Apparently the Ten Man was in a good mood, unfortunately for the children. "Now don't make me separate you too," he jeered. Sticky's eyes shot up and he did his best to burn a hole in Crawlings pupils with his stare. "Touched a nerve, I see," he grinned, elbowing Jefferson who smiled weakly. His single eyebrow wriggled creepily.

Sticky tried to focus on Constance, recalling what he knew about medicine, particularly that about shock-induced coma. Crawlings was speaking to Jefferson, going through his plans of what he would do if the children misbehaved, but Sticky put all his concentration into Constance, trying to wake her with his thoughts. Without her on the other side though, he wasn't sure if she could hear him. It was comforting, however, and so he slowly mind-whispered her name, his lips gently moving along with his thoughts.

He felt the helicopter descended after about half an hour and Crawlings clapped his hands excitedly, bringing Sticky's head up with a start. He'd become so fixed on trying reach Constance, he had let himself slip into a sleepy daze.

"Oh, this will be fun, Jefferson," Crawlings said, rubbing his palms together. "Have you inspected your briefcase yet? You'll notice a few updates—they're quite, genius, if I don't say so myself."

Jefferson coughed, "I'm sure. Did- uh- didn't you come up with some of the ideas, sir?" He asked, as Crawlings obviously wanted him too.

"In fact I did," He said, and turned to Sticky. "Wouldn't you like to see some of my new toys, Ducky? I might even let you play with them later." He withdrew a bottle of ink (the kind used to refill fountain pens) and unscrewed the lid, his eyes fixed on Sticky. "Let's see… would you like to be my test subject?" Sticky swallowed, sure the ink was nothing good. "No? How about your annoying little friend, then, hm?" He slid toward Constance, "Waky, waky, Chicky…" He said, dipping a silver pen into the ink.

"No," Sticky tried to say through his gag (it sounded more like a negative _mmm_ ). He did his best to slide in front of Constance, but their odd arrangement made it difficult. He managed to lean in front of her, the chains cutting into his wrists.

Crawlings grinned, "It'll be more- ah- entertaining on a live subject anyway. Give me your hand," he said, reaching for Sticky's fist. The Ten Man balanced the clear inkbottle on his left palm and carefully held the pen, poised over Sticky's trembling hand, in his right. A single of ink drop fell from the pen. At first, it was cool, wet, like most ink. But soon it began to burn, boiling down into Sticky's skin, a gross sizzle buried beneath the sound of the helicopter blades.

Fighting back tears, Sticky did his best to look unhurt, biting down on his gag to keep from screaming. He made himself hold his hand steady in front of Crawlings, whose smile faded.

"You're not much fun, are you George? Perhaps… a bit more?" He asked and Sticky almost let a whimper escape. "No… I know, let us try it on young Constance, perhaps it will wake her."

Sticky raised his fist best he could around the chain attempted to shield Constance, but with little luck. Crawling crept nearer, his single eyebrow going mad above his wicked eyes. He slowly dipped the pen, letting the extra drips plunk back down into the jar. Leaning over Sticky, he brought his arm down toward Constance's face, his expression thoughtful, like an artist hovering over a canvas. Just then (as Sticky had hoped) the helicopter landed roughly, sending Crawlings back, acid ink splattering over his face and burning through his clothes. The Ten Man screamed in agony and for the first time that morning, Sticky grinned. Perhaps he wasn't as clever as Reynie or as athletic as Kate, but he could handle a Ten Man. And for the first time in a long time, he wasn't afraid.

~::~

Kate lay on her back, exhausted and thirsty. The sun hovered over the crest of a distant hill, weak ray filtering down from distant branches. Milligan was not far off, finding food and making camp arrangements. Kate was beginning to doubt that he was human—they had half run, half walked, at least fifteen miles since that morning through heavy brush and dirt. Reynie was lying, not far off by the sound of his labored breaths he wasn't faring well. He'd been such a trooper, never asking for a break, even when he fell into a batch of blackberries and tripped over countless roots and logs. Kate had even made a point of appearing more worn out than she was, just to make him feel better. She and Milligan weren't like most people, after all. They were built for exertion. Reynie, however, was very average in that respect.

Kate turned her head and watched Reynie try to sit up. Upon finding that bending his mid section made it harder to breathe, however, he collapsed on the ground again. Kate snorted, a smile splitting her ruddy cheeks, "You alright over there, Reynie?"

In reply, Reynie threw his arms out over the grass and groaned. He looked at Kate, a slight smile tugging at his mouth, "This... may be the end… of me," he got out.

Kate rolled to his side and sat up, rapidly recovering. She slipped off her shoes and rubbed her aching feet. "Stop being so dramatic," she teased, "it wasn't _that_ far. Milligan and I run five miles a day, anyways."

Reynie raised his eyebrows, "Through an untamed forest with no water?"

"Well… no," Kate admitted. "But what difference does that make?"

"A lot," Reynie said, half sitting, but throwing his arms out behind him to support his frame, "to a person who usually collapses after about three miles."

Kate laughed. Reynie's humor was so refreshing. He never teased others, but rather made witty, self-depreciating jokes. "Well, if you put in some practice, maybe you could start running with Milligan and I. We're thinking of training for a marathon." Reynie groaned, falling back on the grass and letting his eyelids flutter to a close. Kate yanked him back up, but he remained limp, "Fine. I won't make you train with us."

Reynie peeped half of one eye open, "Promise?"

Kate giggled, "I promise, now, come on—let's gather firewood so that Milligan doesn't kill himself with all this work."

Reynie sighed, dragging himself to his feet and offering Kate his hand, which he kept for a bit longer than necessary. He dropped it awkwardly. He coughed and rubbed his neck, "Let's make a game of it. Whoever collects more woods by the time Milligan gets back, wins. Put yours on that side of the stump," he said, pointing to the remnant of a tree, "and I'll put mine here. Got it?"

"Got it," Kate said, "but don't go far. I don't want to give Milligan a heart attack."

Kate won, but not by as much as she suspected she would. She found Reynie's way of transporting wood was much more effective than hers (he had removed his sweater and filled it with logs before tying it up- by means of the long sleeves- and dragging it back over, which landed him a close loss and a very dirty sweater, but a happy Milligan.

"I'm surprised you two are up," he said approvingly when he returned with a mysterious armful of supplies. "That was quite a run—especially for you, Reynie."

"Where'd you get that, Milligan?" Kate asked, gesturing to the camping things he carried.

Milligan made a face, considered, and then said slowly, "I… had to borrow it, unfortunately, Katie-Cat."

"Borrow?" She asked, her eyebrows in danger of disappearing into her hairline. "You didn't steal them, did you?"

"Katy," said her father disapprovingly. "Do you know me at all?" Kate blushed. "I had to… mm… make use of my disguising abilities and… ask around for handouts."

"You dressed up like a hobo?" Kate asked, guessing correctly. "What I would have paid to see that…." She pretended to look wistful.

Milligan chuckled, "It didn't take much, actually. Turned my coat inside out, adopted a limp and a little mud and pulled my hat down over my eyes. I also gained a few pounds in leaves (under my coat), shrank several inches, and developed a pesky accent. It wasn't my best, but it seemed to work. If the Ten Men ask around for me, we won't be given away at any rate."

Reynie was impressed—it was easy to be impressed by Milligan though. He was, on the whole, an impressive specimen. "What did you get?"

"A mostly broken- though I think repairable- camp stove I found in a junk pile. Five cans of soup (cream of broccoli unfortunately), crackers, water bottles, a couple apples, and some napkins and plastic silverware- those were from a gas station with built in restaurant- and some old blankets," he concluded. "It's not much, but it'll get us through the night. I intend to return what I can once we rescue our friends."

Kate nodded, "Not bad."

"Why thank you, Katie-Cat," he said. "Now, I think it's safe to make a fire here… there are plenty of camp grounds near by and, from what I can see from the top of that tree over there," he pointed casually toward a towering pine, "there are several little towns that will light their fires tonight. It still cold enough to keep their fires going."

Milligan set to work on the fire, an extremely fascinating spectacle, in Reynie's opinion, because he had no matches and worked with dry twigs and his bare hands. While Kate wondered aloud whether she should add matches to her bucket, she tinkered away with the camp stove and soon had a small flame going. She then opened the soups with the can opener application on her Swiss army knife, removed the flammable labels, and carefully set them over the flame. Reynie, feeling not a little useless, set up the blankets near the fireside.

The fire raged red, sparks drifting upward, a rosy imitation of the stars above. Milligan let the children indulge in a can of soup each (they had missed lunch after all) and settled on crackers and apples for himself. Crickets sang quietly over the crackle of the fire, only the sound of plastic spoons on tin disturbing the woodsy peace.

Kate finished her soup, satisfied (she suspected the cream of broccoli might become one of her new favorites), and lay back on her blanket. The fire was strong enough to do without her jacket, so she bundled it up into a pillow beneath her head. The handle of her bucket dug familiarly into her side, but she didn't dare remove it.

Her eyes were heavy and her body pleasantly exhausted. If it weren't for the dire circumstances, she would have been perfectly happy here beneath the stars, watching the effect of the fire off Reynie's tawny eyes. She didn't like (or exactly understand) that thought, so she turned her attention to Milligan. For the first time, she wondered exactly how old he was. She guessed he thirty-five or so, but it suddenly occurred to her that he could be much older. In his excellent condition, though, masked by bright eyes, he looked very young. Sometimes, he looked no older than twenty- the way he moved and reacted. He caught her watching him and met her eyes over the flame, smiling lightly, and patting the place next to him.

She rolled to her knees and got up, skirting the fire to sit beside him. He put his arm around her shoulders, his fingers loosely hooked around her elbow. Nestling her head into her shoulder, Kate whispered something she had long wanted to ask, "Do you mind very much that I don't call you Dad?" Across the fire, Reynie sank into the blankets, probably already asleep.

Milligan brushed her too-long bangs back behind her ear, "I remember that day so well, Katie-Cat. It's strange to me now… that I could ever have forgotten it. And sometimes… I do miss that two-year-old that unknowingly made me promise… to come home to her. But she's all grown up now," he gently tapped her nose and Kate grinned. "I think that 'Milligan' is a good representation of our… _unique_ situation. It reminds me everywhere I go, of the promise I have to you. That I will always come back, no matter what the odds."

Kate sighed, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and the drowsy warmth of the fire. "You know that I love you?" She slurred, letting sleep overtake her.

"I know," Milligan assured her. He watched his only daughter's eyes sink closed, her chin tucked in against his chest. "And I love you... More than life itself." The future guaranteed that he would prove just that.

~::~

Reynie, lulled to sleep by the soft voices across the flame, burrowed down into his blanket (which might have been the most comfortable cloth he'd ever been in contact with… but exhaustion tended to exaggerate). The night was cold now—the warmth of the fire long lost to the still chill of the forest. Tugging on his jacket, which seemed to be frozen except in small patches where his fingers had gripped it, Reynie sat up and stoked the fire, trying to coax a flame from the sputtering coals. Instead, they faded into gray ash. He sighed. When this was over, he'd ask Milligan to teach him how to build a proper fire—and keep it going, for that matter.

Escaping back to what warmth remained in his blankets, Reynie scrunched into a ball, a bit too cold, but tired enough to sleep, thinking how nice it would be to have someone near to him. As soon as he drifted, however, something pulled him back to the surface. Even though he only wanted to slip into dreamland (which was rather cold, but held no cloudy doom), Reynie made himself sit up and listen. Surely Milligan would have heard anything that might have reached Reynie's ears.

He glanced across the dead ring of stones. Kate lay curled into Milligan's shoulders, fast asleep. He smiled lightly, even in his grogginess, and reassured himself that they were safe… he was just jumpy.

Reynie lay back down, tugging Kate's empty blanket toward him as his trapped body heat escaped from his own blanket. Again, he snuggled into the thinly sheeted earth and let his eyes wander closed. This time, he sat bold upright, his stomach churning in fear.

 _"The missing aren't missing, they're only departed,_

 _All minds keep thoughts- so like gold- closely guarded."_

Reynie grabbed his head, the power of the words breaking in on him. He could _hear_ her.

 _"Grow the lawn, mow the lawn_

 _Always keep the TV on."_

This was much stronger, _much_ stronger, than the Whisperer.

 _"Brush your teeth, kill the germs_

 _Poison apples, poison worms"._

This was… a stubborn force that wouldn't let up. That would never give in. This was…

 _"Reynie!"_ Said Constance's voice, an abrupt break in the message broadcast.

"C-Constance?" Reynie asked the night. He made himself focus. " _Where are you?"_

" _With Curtain. Get Mr. B. Hurry. Hurry, before it's done."_

 _"Before what's done?"_ Reynie asked, inwardly frantic. There was no response. He heard Milligan stir, but he kept his head bent double over his knees, concentrating. " _Constance?"_ Nothing. "Before what's done?" he whispered, hopeless. The problem was… he thought he might already know. He just hoped, for once in his life, that he was wrong.

~::~

"Don't you dare hurt her! Don't you dare _touch_ her!" They'd finally taken away Sticky's gag (he made himself heard without it, anyway), but several Ten Men, Jefferson (who was on guard) in particular were beginning to think it had been a bad idea.

Sharpe lugged Constance, still quite unconscious, out of the back of the van, waving mockingly to Sticky, who thrashed against his chains. He watched as her tiny hand caught against the frame of the bulky metal door, sure to leave a bruise.

Sharpe looked merrily over his shoulder, "Oopsie," he said before tossing her limp frame over his shoulder and striding off into the dark.

Sticky was blustering with rage, "You- you monsters! How could you? She's a child!" He roared, "She's a child! She's my _friend!_ I'll- I'll," He fumbled, not sure what threat was loathsome enough for the likes of these.

" _What_ will you do, George? I'm just _dying_ to know," said Crawlings from the open back doors of the van. "Hush now, or I have orders _written in ink_ to shut you up. So _hush_." He strode away and Sticky sank down, too tired to cry. He desperately wished for his glasses and polishing cloth.

He was hungry, frightened to death, and at the hands of lethal men. But he paid little attention to that. Constance was the main priority. He knew Mr. Curtain wanted her. Was Mr. Curtain here? He didn't know. He hadn't seen him… but that was typical of Mr. Curtain. He mainly let his Ten Men play with his prisoners until it was absolutely necessary to speak to them personally. He wanted to- to use her as a human… but he couldn't even think about that (or the Whisperer at all, for that matter). He needed to think of a plan…

"What would Reynie do?" He asked himself. Feeling rather foolish, he did his best to stand (the chains were restricting him) and began to pace. Nothing came but the short _thump, thump, thump_ of his feet on the thinly carpeted van and Jefferson's stiff warning for him to be still. All right, moving on. Kate. Kate would reach for… oh right. He didn't have a bucket.

Well, that left Constance. He smiled when the conclusion came to him. Constance would compose a poem.

He cleared his throat and searched for words and perhaps inspiration.

"Oh, I'm in the back of a van

Stuck with a horrid Ten Man."

Jefferson grunted. Not bad—and what else was there to do, really? He couldn't take Jefferson (or any others he may meet even if he managed to escape) on by himself. He continued.

"Aside from his suit and ugly face

He carries around a most hateful briefcase."

He was almost sure he heard Jefferson mutter, "Ugly?"

"They're really quite dumb (they think pencils are darts)

And play they have weapons with sharp office parts."

"They're mean and greedy, tell nothing but lies—"

He paused, trying to think of another line.

"And this one's in for a major surprise," Kate finished for him. A plume appeared in Jefferson's shoulder. "You know, I think that was my best line yet. Thanks for the set up, pal."

"Don't mention it," Sticky said weakly as Kate crushed the life out of him with her signature hug. "Where are the others? Is everyone alright?"

"Reynie's hearing voices, Cannonball's got a clipboard cut, McCracken's looking for Spenser- whoever that is- and… oh yeah, Mark got slugged in the face," Kate said proudly.

Sticky stared at her, "You do realize that _none_ of what you just said to made sense, right?"

"Yeah," Kate said, beaming. "Now, where's Connie-Girl?"

"I have no idea," Sticky said. "They took her from me about twenty minutes ago."

"They can't be far," Kate said, working madly at the lock on Sticky's handcuffs.

"Kate," he said urgently, "you don't understand. They have planes and helicopters and _everything._ They could be anywhere."

Kate fixed Jefferson to the chains, taking his briefcase and slipping out of the van to put it on top, where no would find it. "We're not so bad off, ourselves though!"

"What do _we_ have?" He asked wearily.

"My bucket," Kate announced.

Sticky sighed, "I was afraid that you would say that."

Rubbing his head fondly, Kate beamed at him, "I've missed your pessimism, Sticky. C'mon, Milligan and Reynie are already looking for Constance."

Kate leapt from the van, Sticky close behind. She used her mirror/locket, checking the surrounding areas. No one. She only considered that it was odd that she hadn't run into anyone yet, decided it was luck, and dashed around the corner, before she saw a cluster of black, pinstriped suites standing around something, as if they were crowding the coffee stand at the office.

But this something was not a coffee stand. This something was alive… but barely.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Persuasion and Protection

Reynie was on his back. He was still trying to figure out how he got there (he'd been on his feet last time he checked), when a shadow fell over him. Crawlings looked down at him.

Woozy, Reynie stared for a moment, "Where's…?" He began, and then thought better of it, lowering the pointer finger he had unintentionally raised.

Sharpe, coming up beside him, laughed thickly, "Hear that, Crawlings? Young Reynard here's noticed your new style."

Crawling ran a hand over his now completely bare forehead (the ink Sticky splashed on him had burned his remaining eyebrow away). "Complements of your little bald friend. I was on my way over to make him pay for it… but I think you'll be more fun."

His hands curled around Reynie's shirtfront, pulling him up. Reynie's head spun and his head throbbed. He grasped for a hold on the present, but ragged black edges blurred his vision. He was injured, but he wasn't sure how. Beginning with his feet, Reynie mentally assessed his body.

"What's this?" asked Crawlings, spinning Reynie around. He tugged something from his shoulder, which Reynie realized with a sickening flip of his stomach he couldn't feel. The Ten Man examined a double-toothed silver something in his hand. "Somebody got him with a stun stapler. Was that you Sharpe?"

Sharpe smiled, almost sheepishly, "Yeah, didn't know if it hit him though."

"You got him alright. Nice shot," Crawlings congratulated him.

Reynie felt his limbs go still, power draining from him. His lips had long since sunk into each other, still and heavy. He stood, only from the support Crawlings's hand, using his collar as a hangman's noose. Hands dangling docilely at his hands, Reynie looked at the men, his eyes seeming to be the only movable part of his body.

"Not so brave now, are we?" Asked Crawlings. He let go of Reynie, sending him down awkwardly onto the earth, his wrist bent beneath him in a menacing crunch. Tears broke onto his eyes at the pain he could express no other way.

Jefferson strode up to look down on Reynie, "The blond one came for George—you were right. They chained me up, the naughty chickens, and shot me with the darts you warned me about. I guess we know that antidote works."

"Where are they now?" Asked Crawlings, kneeling down and opening his briefcase. He looked at Reynie and winked, "I'll be with you in a moment."

"Looking for the agent, I guess. They saw you—I don't think they saw _him_ though," he nudged Reynie with the toe of his dress shoe. "But they think you're distracted."

Sharpe sighed, "I guess we have to go get them. I was so looking forward to playing with the little Duck too…" he pouted.

"It's alright, Sharpe," Crawlings said consolingly. He lifted a menacing looking business card from his box of horrors and grinned at Reynie, "I'll leave something for you to play with."

"Good man," Sharpe said, with a small, pleased smile. "Now, let's go get the bucket one… what's her name?"

"Does it matter?" Jefferson replied. "She, George and the agent are probably together by now."

"You'd better stay here, Jefferson," Sharpe warned. "They don't know about the antidote yet."

"Right, right," Jefferson agreed grudgingly. He stood and gave Reynie a little wave. "I'll go check up on the boss and the annoying one. See if they need anything."

"I wouldn't," Crawlings said with a smirk, "Martina's over there."

Jefferson rolled his eyes, "It's alright. I've been flirting like you suggested. She won't order _me_ around to much." He ran a hand through his wavy hair and adjusted his glasses. "How do I look?"

Sharpe chuckled, "You're a mean one, Jefferson. You'll break her heart with that smile of yours."

"Goodness knows that's what she needs," he muttered and stalked off into the night.

Reynie's wrist throbbed and he put all his will into not throwing up (he was afraid he would choke if he did) and did his best to get his limbs to move.

Crawlings sensed his attempted movement and clucked his tongue, "No use in that, Chickadee. That stapler I pulled out of your shoulder was dosed in a strong paralysis. You'll not be moving for a while."

Reynie gave up as he suggest (the effort was exhausting him) and instead put all his power into a plan.

Obviously, the warning from Constance had been false. He should have guessed it and it infuriated him that he could have been so foolish. Now Kate (if she wasn't captured already) was out scouting for Constance. Milligan with her, wherever she was and Sticky… he had no idea. The new Ten Man (Jefferson, Sharpe had called him) had said Kate had freed Sticky… but then, he hadn't seemed too concerned that they had gotten away. Reynie had no clue where Sticky was, but it sounded like she was with the "boss." Whether that meant Mr. Curtain or S.Q., Reynie wasn't sure. Kate had said that S.Q. _was_ Mr. Curtain, so perhaps he was only working through the poor, confused teenager.

Crawlings made a noise of annoyance. "I guess I'll have to haul you out of the way…" he sighed, hooking his hands under Reynie's arms. His wrist (broken, he suspected) dragged painfully through the dirt, his feet pulling through ruts in the rough road. On either side, were banks of trees, walling in the remote path. Squeezed on the sides (even the road was only wide enough for one car) about fifteen vehicles loomed in the darkness. Somewhere, the purr of an engine filled the night air.

Reynie's head, uncontrolled, lolled back, his eyes staring up at the stars. He closed his eyes, focusing on his pinky finger, trying to make it move, wiggle, anything.

Crawlings grunted with effort, hefting Reynie up into the back of a still van, it's cold metal doors open like dead jaws. His head slammed against the metal flooring, making his ears ring. Crawlings climbed in after him, grinning maliciously.

"At last, Reynard," he said, opening his briefcase with a click, "we have some time to ourselves."

Something was different. Reynie sensed it. There was no immediate need for this. Reynie was helpless in his state of paralysis. He wasn't going anywhere. No, Crawlings wasn't doing his job. This wasn't for money. This was revenge.

~::~

Sticky sprinted madly after Kate, looking nervously over his shoulder at the lump on the ground. It looked like a person.

To keep his mind from wandering to… less pleasant thoughts, Sticky thought about Kate's reaction to lump in the road. She'd used her locket with double mirrors, looking around the corner. Sticky hadn't got to look before she dragged him away, running full tilt. She ran so fast, Sticky barely followed her, tracking her only by the clank of bucket or flash of golden hair.

She slid to a stop finally, her tennis shoes sending up dirt and coloring in the wet streaks on her face. Milligan was hidden in the tree line, covered in black stuff.

Sticky stared at him and Milligan beamed, "Glad to see you're okay, Sticky. I would give you a more proper greeting but… I'm afraid the camouflage won't allow it." He turned to Kate, concernedly (having been speaking to Sticky so that she could catch her breath—he knew how she hated to cry in front of others) and beckoned to her, "What'd you see, Katie-Cat?"

Kate only shook her head, her pony-tale coming loose around her face. Sticky put a comforting hand on her back. "Was it that thing on the road? What was it?"

Kate nodded and tried to clear her throat. Milligan put out his mud-painted arms, but Kate put up a hand and closed her eyes, collecting herself. She took a deep breath, "I think it was Reynie. You told me to run if I saw Ten Men, there were three, maybe four, it was too dark to tell… but Milligan," Kate said, her throat tight, "I think… I think he's… I think they've killed him… I think they killed Reynie." Her hands shot up to her mouth, covering her quivering chin.

Milligan seemed to pale, even under the mud and Sticky felt woozy, his head spinning.

"He… he wasn't moving," Kate explained. "But his e-eyes were open. I should have stayed- I might have helped him."

"No, you did right," Milligan said, trying to keep his voice even. "I'm sure Reynie is perfectly alright."

"It's my fault," Kate breathed. "We shouldn't have split up. What was I thinking?"

"Kate, you can't think that way," Milligan said, his voice hushed. Sticky wandered to a rock and sat down slowly, trying to hide the fact that he was on the verge of fainting. "Now, where were they?"

Kate shook her head rapidly, trying to clear the panic. She put her hand on her bucket, he hand running across the handle in attempt to calm her shaking fingers. "They were near the middle of the road. Three hundred yards and seven and a half feet that way," she pointed into the darkness.

"Okay," Milligan said, watching his daughter tremble. He brushed his fingers over her cheek, leaving a dark streak of mud. "I'll check it out. Now, I think I found where Constance is. We'll get Reynie first and then figure out a way to get to her. If Ten Men appear, I might need you as back up, but _only_ as backup. So keep out of sight unless I call and only if I call you. Do you understand?"

Milligan expected resistance, but Kate only nodded, her eyes wide, "I understand."

"Good," he said. "Now come here." Kate buried her head into Milligan's dirty shirtfront, rubbing mud into her hair. "Reynie is going to be just fine. He is too valuable to kill, all right? He's not expendable. That might change, but right now, the worst they'll do is scare him a little."

"Okay," Kate murmured. "Let's go."

~::~

Resist. She had to resist.

"No," she said, obstinately.

S.Q. sighed, exasperated, " _Yes_ , my dear. Your friends will come and they will _die_ if you do not obey."

"That's a lie! I'd rather die than comply with a bad guy!" She had to hand it to herself. Even under such conditions, she could rhyme- quite amazing, really.

S.Q. rubbed his head in a very Mr. Curtainish fashion.

Constance jumped on her chance, "S.Q.?" she asked sweetly.

The boy's shoulders jerked as if warding off a fly. His body filled with air and she heard as he released it. "That will not work on me. S.Q. is... how can I explain it to someone so simple? Let's say… he's sleeping. He's not here. I am in control."

Constance, chained in tiny cuffs to the single-legged table of an RV, beckoned with one small hand to the boy pacing before him. Mr. Curtain (through S.Q.) knelt cautiously before her, his face screwed up in distaste. Extending her hand as far as she could, she made a helpless gesture, exposing her empty palm to the ceiling, "What will you do to my friends if I do what you say?"

Mr. Curtain cackled—or tried to (it sounded more like a hysterical giggle, coming through S.Q.'s throat) and grinned at Constance, leaning forward on his heals, leering, "Well, Miss Contraire," he began, "I will start by telling you what I will _not_ do. I will not—" but he stopped in mid-sentence, drawing back in pain. As soon as Mr. Curtain had become close enough, Constance had dug her nails into his hand (which was thrust forward for effect of his speech) and tried to bite him.

"Snakes and dogs!" Mr. Curtain shouted, ripping back his injured hand.

"S.Q.! S.Q. Pedalian!" Constance screamed in his face.

" _What_ ," Mr. Curtain asked, "do you think you are trying to accomplish by this infernal racket?"

"Wake _up_ S.Q.!" Constance persisted.

Mr. Curtain rubbed his head. "I see that my explanation was _too_ simple. S.Q. will not "wake," as you so naively put it, until I tell him to. Do you understand?"

Constance gave one more, long scream, but cut short when Mr. Curtain began to stand up. She knew his gloves, his horrid silver gloves, were on the table and that the table was higher up. She concluded, therefore, that ground level was safer.

"I will make you pay for that little incident later. Right now, we have business to take care of," Mr. Curtain said evenly. "Benedict probably tried to explain my Whisperer to you, did he not?"

Constance stared blankly at him. Mr. Curtain sighed.

"I'll assume he did. I know that he does not have it… that it has been destroy—"

"Yes, yes, the Whisperer is dead

Gone, gone, when everything is said.

Ha, ha, Curtain's darkest dread.

Look, look, he's gonna loose his head.

Snore, snore, puts him right to bed."

Constance had planned another stanza, but Mr. Curtain rose and the verse froze in her mouth. "I see you are impatient for your punishment. Well, I can fit time in my schedule, I suppose." Mr. Curtain put on his gloves.

Her eyes wide, the toddler looked up at the man that looked so like the kind-hearted, clumsy boy she'd spent time with outside Mr. Curtain's cell. But somehow… it wasn't him. "You won't," she said, though she half believed he would. "You don't have time for me to be knocked out. I can read your thoughts, dumb head."

Mr. Curtain closed his eyes, slowly, perhaps chewing on the phrase "dumb head" as it referred to him. He collected himself. "You are correct, to some degree, but perhaps… less demeaning terms would be more proper, Miss Contraire. I do not have time for you to work off the effect of the shock, but perhaps your sister will." Mr. Curtain snapped his fingers and Rhonda Kazembe stumbled into the room.

Before she could raise her voice in greeting—before the young woman could even lift her eyes, Mr. Curtain brought her to her knees with the force of electricity.

Constance stared, a whimper in her throat.

"Obviously," Mr. Curtain smiled, "you do not know _all_ my thoughts, but rather the ones I chose to share with you. I am sure you have found the same true with your Benedict." Constance, in spite of herself, nodded. Mr. Curtain grinned. "As you can see, you cannot read the thoughts of anyone outside this room. I will not attempt to explain to you why that is, as you are too simple-minded to understand it, but rather I will leave explanation at this: I have made it so and so it is. Now, shall I bring in one of your other friends? Young Kate perhaps? Or, maybe spunky Reynard."

"You don't have either of them," Constance said certainly. "Rhonda told me when she came in."

"She _told_ you?" asked Mr. Curtain, astounded.

Constance raised her eyebrows in answer, "You know, for being a genius, you're pretty dull."

"Enough of this," Mr. Curtain seethed. "First, you shall rid me of my narcolepsy."

"I won't."

It was the same argument as before. But this time, the odds were different.

"Pencillia is next." Mr. Curtain lifted his fingers, as if to snap.

"Wait," Constance. "You… you have to hide it."

Mr. Curtain smiled, "You'll have to be more specific than that, my dear."

Taking a deep breath, Constance began, "Mr. Benedict tried to explain it to me. It's a difficult process, but I know it involves hiding the narcolepsy from yourself—from your brain. Like… sweeping it away."

"Partial brain sweeping, I see. So you are capable of that as well…" His eyes glowed happily as he considered some hideous mound of possibilities. "What, exactly, does one hide from oneself?"

Constance stuck out her tongue. Mr. Curtain glared. "One hides the bad stuff from oneself so that one no longer has to experience what has been bothering one so that one doesn't feel oppressed by one's problems and one is free to be oneself without one's-"

Mr. Curtain rubbed his temples, "Again, clarity, my dear," he said, ignoring Constance's attempts to mock him, although it did work (and rather well, at that). "What do you mean by 'bad stuff'? As you so… _quaintly_ put it," he sneered.

"The narcolepsy stuff. I don't know what it is. I don't have it. I'm not a freak."

"You, at five, can read minds and I'm the freak?" Mr. Curtain yelled. "I _suffer_ from a condition. The very same that your Benedict suffered from. Are you saying, then, that he was a freak too?"

"Yes," she said sweetly, surprising Mr. Curtain, "until _I_ came into his life."

Opening his mouth in confusion, Mr. Curtain shook his head and then slowly closed his jaws, his teeth snapping together. "You are trying to distract me."

"It's not very hard," Constance said, her voice full of false pity.

Rubbing his temples, Mr. Curtain sat down slowly. "What do you remember of the process Mr. Benedict used to rid himself of narcolepsy?"

Constance knew he meant business by his thought process, "Not much. There was a lot of pain on my part. He told me what to think. It was a year ago— that's a long time in my life."

"Well, I suggest you try to recall that information," he said, dangerously, "for the sake of your friends."

"I can try, but it was all Mr. Benedict, really," Constance admitted. Her lips lifted into a weak smile, "Let us begin," she demanded, just as the Whisperer had.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light (or lack of it) or maybe Constance saw what she wanted to, but she thought she detected a flicker of fear in the large blue eyes before her.

~::~

It took every ounce of Kate's will not to sprint ahead, barreling toward the place where she saw Reynie. Instead, she paced herself behind Milligan, running beside a nervous Sticky. With only a brief explanation from Kate, Milligan knew precisely where to go.

The stretch of road was empty except for the still vehicles, eerily silent, glinting there like moonlight ghosts. No one stirred.

"They moved him," Kate whispered. She dug in her bucket for her flashlight, flinging the light over the rough ground. "There!"

Milligan knelt in the dirt, his fingers tracing marks in the road. He pointed, "They went that way." He left out that the tracks admitted that something with tennis shoes was dragged over the path.

Kate saw it plainly enough, though, and let out a long, quavering breath. "Come on."

They crept through the night, three shadows in the dim glow of the moon. The open doors of a van jumped out of the night, one taillight shattered, the evidence ground into the dirt. Two elegant shoes hung over the lip of the van, faintly striped socks slightly exposed under the hem of a pressed pant legs. Milligan put up a warning hand and Kate handed off her flashlight, standing impatiently with Sticky, who was more than willing to keep his distance any Ten Man, even a fallen one.

Milligan's sigh of relief was audible. Kate saw his fingers lift from the man's neck. "It's Crawlings," he Murmured. "He's alive, but out cold. He won't be coming around anytime soon, but just to be sure… " Milligan tugged the handkerchief from the Crawlings's breast pocket and pressed it over the unconscious man's thin lips for a few minutes until he joined the children again. "We definitely don't want him around." He winked at Sticky, who was nodding emphatically.

"Oh boy, that's like, what? Six unconscious people tonight?" Kate asked, trying to keep her voice light. She was still fretting over Reynie, convinced she would never see him again, but when Kate was scared, she was her boldest.

Milligan grinned, "And I'd wager they'll be a couple more… if I have anything to do with it."

Kate could barely see Milligan (except for the glint of his always merry blue eyes) due to his heavy mud coating. He looked so like he did when he rescued her from Jillson, Jackson, and Martina. Her father scouted, her flashlight still in hand, looking for signs of Crawlings's attacker. Kate got out her penlight to help.

"Footprints," she heard Milligan say under his breath.

She went to stand by the mud sculpture that was her father, "Big ones… almost like… do you think it could be Moocho?"

Milligan shook his head, "He always wears his house slippers or tennis shoes… these are dress shoes…" His eyebrows contracted.

He and Kate exchanged looks, not wanting to say the name allowed in attempt to keep Sticky calm. How was it possible?

Kate opened her mouth to make some excuse, but closed down defeated, when she saw Sticky's frightened expression.

"I know those footprints," he said, standing dejectedly across from them. "I just hoped I'd never see them again."

"I know, me too," Milligan sighed. "I'd really rather not deal with him tonight."

Kate grinned, having come up with a suitable joke for the situation, "Yes… someone's released _Ma_ Cracken!" She looked around for a smile, but neither of her companions felt like it. Somewhere, McCracken roamed the night.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Endings and End Things

Her bucket jouncing at her side, Kate Wetherall might have been the wind, silent and cold, sweeping over the empty street. No eye detected her.

But, unfortunately, more than one eye (and several ears) caught Sticky, panting behind her. Kate thought he was being rather dramatic, but, having been kidnapped herself, she knew the ordeal wasn't exactly pleasant and gave Sticky credit for his good (yet rather loud) attitude.

Milligan breathed, "Two."

Kate looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, double briefcases chased after them.

"Duck, on my count," the command was barely audible, but Kate sprang when Milligan reached three, pushing Sticky to the ground to save him from a dart in the shoulder. The first Ten Man took the dart in his neck—it wasn't Milligan's fault though (the man had flinched back, changing his position)—and the other in the shoulder (where Milligan had aimed).

Having grown rather fond of watching her foes sink to the ground like sleepy toddlers, Kate sat up to watch, only to take a briefcase full in the chest. Lungs deflated, air evaded her as she gasped, falling back on the road.

She watched with fear as Sharpe yanked the dart from his neck, smiling almost maniacally as he advanced on Milligan, having stunned Kate with his heavy bag.

Sticky collapsed by Kate's side, gasping for air.

"Kate!" Milligan's voice sent the air burning back into her lungs. She sprang up to see her father deflecting pencils the best he could with his bare hands. "Run."

And run she did. Her heals dug into the ground, pulsing forward, strong and determined and fully Kate. Sharpe hardly had time to turn before all nails, teeth, and bucket of Kate flew hard into his stomach. The man fell with a grunt, releasing his briefcase. Digging her tennis shoes into the man's wrists, Kate plucked the handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it over his mouth.

She was up with a bound only to freeze in the point of red light. A new Ten Man stood, his hands clasped around his laser pointer, and stared menacingly at Kate. She stared into the face of her undoing and, of all things, Kate Wetherall smiled and said, "Well… nobody's invincible," just before her body fell heavily to the earth.

~::~

The world glowed red for a moment, the previous silence filled with an electric whine and distant yells. Reynie stirred, wondering what could have caused such a commotion. He expected to see Crawling standing over him, preparing what torture Reynie was sure awaited him. Instead, he stared into the coat buttons on a man that was breathing heavily. Jerking back Reynie tried to get a look at the person carrying him, but he couldn't move his head.

"Be still," a gruff, unfamiliar voice said.

It was a kind command, though, so Reynie obeyed (not having much a choice anyway) and tried to make sense of where he was. He smelled strong cologne, which might have lingered on his clothes from Crawlings. Somehow, Reynie didn't think the person carrying him was a Ten Man as the transport wouldn't have been so kind. But no small person could be carrying him. He puzzled over this, but in the mean time, he assessed his body. He felt that he was in control of his limbs again (a major relief), but his head hurt and his arms stung madly like a hive of bees had a grudge against him. He remembered the ink and began to sweat, wondering where Crawlings was now.

"Don't worry," the voice calmed, sensing his nervousness. "You'll be alright. Crawlings won't be up for a while."

Reynie's brows pulled together, a strange feeling prickling in his stomach. He tested his voice, "Where are we going?"

In answer, the man only adjusted Reynie in his arms, decreasing his visibility even more. He could hear the crunch of pine needles beneath his carrier's feet, but he could also hear a not so distant commotion. Reynie guessed they were running along the strip of forest that lined the wide dirt road. After a moment of intent listening, Reynie concluded that they were running toward the trouble and not away, which both pleased and frightened him. On the one hand, where trouble was, so were his friends, but on the other a war was going on and Reynie couldn't be sure who was winning.

"Who are you?" Reynie said, cautiously.

"I'd rather you didn't know," replied the man.

"Did you save me from Crawlings?"

Quiet rained for a few minutes as the man took quick strides forward, his gait uneven over the rough land. "Yes," he finally answered, though it was a resigned, almost guilty answer.

Reynie's mind was a web, his thoughts a famished spider, and his carrier was an incautious fly. Smiling slightly, Reynie began the deluge of subtle questions, having caught a distraction for his abused mind.

~::~

Constance's brain hurt. Well, it was the only thing that hurt almost as much as her heart, so that's what she focused on. S.Q. sat across from her, in what seemed to be a rather intense staring contest. His shoulder jerked as Constance resisted. This was just the opposite problem she'd had with Mr. Benedict. She had trouble mustering up enough power (in her case enough _anger_ ) to help Mr. Benedict until Reynie prompted her to channel all her thoughts toward the problem, which had solved everything. Here, she had too _much_ power, but she didn't want to help Mr. Curtain. It was like turning on a tap and then trying to keep the water from flowing without turning it off again. It was a very frustrating and wet ordeal—wet because the gallons of sweat that dripped from her and Mr. Curtain's pores.

She wiped a shaky hand over her brow, trying to keep a hold on the information she was slowly letting Mr. Curtain have. For all her knew, the trouble was trying to pass the information, not withholding it. Constance began to wilt, her rosy cheeks paling, even though she was hot with work. Her eyes squeezed shut.

 _Constance, my darling! What a remarkable child you are._

The little girl's eyes popped, bright blue in the fading pink of her cheeks. She nearly said his name aloud. _Mr. Benedict?_

 _Yes, my dear… how brave you are. You need only resist a short time longer._

An image of the entire crew appeared in her mind. The stood in a line in her mind and Constance realized that she truly did love each one of them, even though she tried hard not to show it. She grinned in spite of her exhaustion. She noted the Coles were not among the line and that made the grin fade. She sighed, Mr. Curtain grunted impatiently.

 _How do I know it's you?_

She heard Mr. Benedict chuckle in her mind and a bit more of her confidence came soaring back.

 _How's this…. "Rules and school are tools for fools." Or perhaps, shall I remind you of what you drew on the back of the puzzle test?_

An image of giant, clumsily drawn pencil scrawled on the back of ink-typed paper appeared in her mind. The pencil seemed to have arms and legs and a very puckered, very full mouth. Number Two—or what Constance had imagined her test instructor to be.

 _Poor Pencilla… I'm afraid she wasn't very fond of that picture. Don't tell her, but I keep it my desk drawer. It does make me smile and now I can look at it as often as I like without falling asleep… If that doesn't convince you… how's this?_

The line of friends appeared again, only this time, Reynie stood near Kate, his had wrapped in hers, both of them blushing and Reynie grimacing a little, no doubt from the pain that must be in his finger from Kate's bone-crunching affection.

Constance laughed. Mr. Curtain's head shot up, "What are you doing? Is this some kind of trick!? You forget, Miss Contraire, that I have your friend in a line up and do more than shock them if you do not comply with—"

"Shush," Constance said.

Mr. Curtain gaped, "Did you just shush m-?"

"Shush," Constance repeated, this time snappily, holding up a finger.

"Snakes and dogs," he muttered, but bowed his head again, concentrating.

The pain throbbed back into reality. Constance groaned, sweat trickling down her hairline. _How much longer?_

 _Very soon my dear, very soon. Remember this… Laughter is the best medicine._

Of course, Mr. Benedict was right. Happiness distracted her just as much as anger prompted her to cure narcolepsy. It felt like someone was pressing the head of a needle into her neck and forcing it up into her brain. Only this needle was no ordinary tetanus shot… it was sharp as a vampire fang and about as long as the Eiffel Tower was high. Plus the force of the universe was behind it.

She felt Mr. Benedict depart and sensed his parting sigh, almost one of relief as if he'd been pressing against a door he should not have been able to open.

Laughter… laugher. She thought of Kate first. Broad-shouldered, confident Kate, with her stupid bucket. She smiled. Kate was big, boisterous, prideful, cunning… but the most spectacular thing about Kate was her heart. That girl knew how to love. She'd encountered so many strange people in her life and embraced them all with her too-rough hugs. Constance knew this too well. She had been in Kate's heart, had walked around in her brain and knew her every passing thought. She lived first at an orphanage, then at a circus, and then with a bunch of geniuses and finally with her long-lost father. Most teenaged girls wouldn't give such people the time of day, but Kate… Kate loved with every bit of her being, with every fiber of her soul. She only hated what she could not love. And Constance was immensely glad not be among those. She thought of Kate in lioness form, her eyes bright, sure… Constance grinned.

Reynie was next. Brave, in his way, though he would never admit it. Funny, quirky, maybe a bit strange… but… endearing. Reynie, she knew, was special. He was something unique—more than any of them, even herself. Reynie was destined for greatness. He—like Mr. Benedict—wouldn't ever know it themselves, somewhat blinded by humility. Reynie was adorable. He was capable, patient, kind, clever, intelligent, even funny, if he wanted to be. He knew how to calm everyone and never needed calming himself. Reynie was the eye of the storm and the balm to the cut. He was… peace. He was a born leader. Constance looked up to him and trusted him perhaps more than any of her new friends. Reynie was her adopted big brother. It was a wonder to her that something as simple as liking a girl, then, tripped him up. It made her giggle, even thinking of his infinite awkwardness around Kate.

George Washington. She missed how goofy his glasses made him look. And they distracted her from his startlingly wise eyes that drew her in like a moth to light. Indeed, he thought of her a moth—when he thought of her at all. Her smile slipped. But not lately, no. In the last few hours, Constance was all he thought of. Her cheeks glowed radiantly.

Mr. Curtain scowled, "What are you doing you _stupid_ child? This is not a game."

But Constance had cut the flow of information to less than a trickle, to a thin stream like steam escaping the spout of a teapot, evading capture, and yet tantalizingly visible, achingly tangible, but still out of grasp.

She thought of the way Sticky fidgeted, his eyes when he was nervous the way he crossed his eyes when he was pretending to be annoyed with her… they way he shut her out when he really was. He was unpredictable and bright, distant and colorful. He was the most complicated puzzle of her life… which both infuriated and mesmerized her. And she loved him for it.

But there is only so much steam before the water begins to pour. Soon, she'd have to give in to the tug, hoping for Mr. Benedict's go ahead. But none came… and there wasn't much time left.

~::~

Nicholas Benedict and John Cole walked from Rothschild's End into the shadows of the trees at a brisk pace. Both men felt a strange sense of boyhood, a magic, between them as they flew in wide stride through the trees. The air of treasure hunting was potent, but now a much more precious treasure was in the balance—their families.

At one time, Nicholas thought nothing— _nothing_ could compare to his hunt for the Mrs. Rothschild's missing inheritance (now discovered), but how many times did he prove himself wrong in those following years? And now, during his most important mission, he smiled, glad to see that life could still throw him for a loop.

They passed Giant's Head, a shadowy figure, vine-strewn and silent, but still waiting for the three curious children that used to enter its mouth and stare up into the starry expanse. Tonight, two of them would pass by, grown, for now ignoring the new telescope inside, waiting for clever minds to discover.

John listened to Mr. Benedict puff as they ran, sure it was more than the steep incline that made his breath heavy. He wasn't entirely convinced that his friend—his small nine-year-old, clever, bully-hunted, _fresh_ friend-didn't need his help anymore. That he wasn't liable to fall down in a heap. Nicholas continually smiled over at John, reassuringly, but he was still cautious.

The source of Mr. Benedict's exhaustion, however, had little to do with running and even less to do with Narcolepsy. It was his conversation with Constance and his deathly worry for her that wearied him.

John's cell phone rang and he fumbled to answer it. He made no greeting but only listened to the deep, masculine voice on the other end before saying, "Okay. See you in an hour."

"I take the mission is successful. And I know you think we should take a rest, my friend, but we must move," Nicholas said, beckoning as he took off running, "You're older than me, you know."

John shook his head, running after him. After a moment he gave in and asked, "How did you know I wanted to rest, Nick?"

Mr. Benedict laughed, winking at John, "I prefer to remain mysterious."

~::~

Mr. Curtain laughed, "Come now, my dear, you can no longer resist. I can _feel_ it leaving me."

Constance whimpered. She lay on her side, trying to resist and failing miserably. She wanted to give up and dump the cure on Mr. Curtain. It was like holding a very full bucket of heavy water above her head, slowly tipping it to let off only the smallest stream for hours and hours, the weight achingly present.

She climbed to her knees, knowing Mr. Curtain meant to threaten her any moment and prepared to give the cure to her arch nemesis. Someone banged on the door. Mr. Curtain growled.

"Sir?" someone asked.

"GO AWAY YOU FOOL," he yelled.

"Sir… you really need to see this," said the man.

Constance didn't recognize the voice. He must be new.

"Need I repeat myself?" Mr. Curtain whispered. Quiet was much more dangerous than loud, in Constance's book. "I will have your _head_ if you do not shut up and leave me."

Constance felt the man hesitate on the other side of the door, "Sir…" he tried again.

"I haven't the time to deprive you of every human joy at the moment, so I will simply ignore you. Miss Contraire and I have some business to attend to. Leave us."

S.Q. looked so wrong saying these words and it made Constance wanted to cry. She wished her friends would come….

And her wish came true.

"It's alright, young man," came Mr. Benedict's voice. "You warned him."

"Benedict?" Curtain asked wildly. He threw himself onto his feet. "Where are you?"

"I am outside your R.V., brother," he said quietly.

"No! No! This is impossible. My Ten Men! Those fools! Those blithering, ignorant fools!" He seethed. "They were supposed to keep hold of you."

"Oh and that they did… and they did a very good job of it, I might add," Mr. Benedict said and Constance could hear the smile in his voice. "They will _not_ be letting me go no matter _what_ I say or _who_ I claim to be."

Mr. Curtain cursed loudly. "What are you going on about? You are outside my-!" but he fell quiet, realization crashing over his features.

"I am brother, I am…" Mr. Benedict said, but now he sounded almost sad. "But where are you?"

Then Mr. Benedict's thoughts came directly to Constance, telling her exactly what to think and how to finally cure Mr. Curtain.

~::~

A very confused, but relieved S.Q. Pedalian stumbled from the R.V., carrying Constance, fast asleep in his gawky, caring arms, "I think she's dropped the sack… or rather hit off…" his eyebrows came together. "She's asleep."

Mr. Benedict smiled at him, patting his shoulder, "Well said, S.Q. And well _done_."

A man emerged from the trees, his eyes gleaming, limp prominent. Mr. Benedict stepped in front of S.Q., who's eyes grew wide with fear. The big man stopped in the shadow of the tree line and lay something on the ground. He shifted uncomfortably, "It doesn't make up for what I've done. But… in return for my life, I offer one of yours." And he turned and disappeared again, into the night.

"Thank you… Moray," Mr. Benedict whispered after the Ten Man. He knelt by the thing McCracken had put down.

"Reynie?" he asked. "Are you alright, my brave, _brave_ boy?"

Reynie coughed, having inhaled dirt. He sat up. "Mr. Benedict?" They embraced, both laughing and wincing, each sore from the night's endeavors. "I'm fine, but where are the others? Is everyone alright? I saw a red light earlier… It may have been a laser pointer."

"Let us hurry then, my friend, let us hurry," Mr. Benedict said, helping Reynie up. "It appears that your wrist is broken. Did you injure anything else?" he asked, as they paced past the silent cars.

"I'm not sure yet. I'll tell you once I get my head on straight," he said and they both gave in to worried chuckles.

Mark dashed from the trees, frantic and scared. He still had the composed, steady look, but his eyes gave his emotions away. "This way."

"Who's hurt?" Reynie asked, knowing the look.

He swallowed hard and beckoned for Reynie to follow, "She took a laser pointer full on."

Reynie's stomach dropped. His feet failed him, heart rate plummeting to a stop. He couldn't breathe—someone had stolen his air and his words. No one could survive a laser pointer… and only one girl would be confident enough to stand one. Kate.

~::~

"No! No, no, no," it seemed to be the only word he could say. Reynie ran, springing forward, unbelieving, afraid, sick. "Kate!" He dashed forward. His friends were clustered around a blond-haired, bucket-fastened girl, but this girl couldn't be Kate… she was too still, too smiless… too bloody. "Kate!" He cried again, willing himself forward instead of onto his knees.

He dropped down besides her, not noticing anyone else. "Kate?" he asked desperately. She was still, cheeks pale… lifeless. He threw his arms around her, dry-eyed and listened for her heartbeat. Nothing. "Kate," he whispered, "you're not going to let a _Ten Man_ beat you, are you?" Her head lolled against his shoulder, her cold, still form slumped against his wildly beating heart, which seemed to be urging hers to beat. "Come on… You're the Great Kate Weather Machine… you're _not_ going to give up now, are you?"

Her eyes fluttered open, "You kidding me?" she croaked. "I'm just resting my eyes." She put her arms around Reynie and he helped her sit up. Sticky collided with them and the others piled on in a huge group hug, crushing Kate with their love, just as she always did them.

Milligan stumbled forward when the others backed away. He hugged Kate and she clung to him, tiredly. " _That's_ why," he said, "I tell you to obey me. You scared me to _death_ Katie-Cat. You scared me to death…" he sank weakly to his knees, holding her close. "Don't you _ever_ do that again."

Kate laughed, a beautiful sound in the broken night. " Don't worry, I won't. I'm not going anywhere just yet."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Dresses and Details

The Mysterious Benedict Society sat in a circle in a bedroom on the second story of Rothschild's End. Constance was wrapped in a plaid quilt she found on a cot shoved in one corner and Kate was delightedly rummaging through cardboard boxes, fixing things clumsily with one bright eye showing—the rest of her face was wrapped in heavy gauze.

They were waiting for the previous occupant of that room. A little boy who used have nightmares in the dark and who escaped through the vary wall opposite them. A little boy with a big nose and an even bigger brain. The one who had brought them all together.

Sticky was adjusting his glasses (round ones Kate had found for him because his contacts, after sitting in his eyes for nearly two days, had gone blurry) when the knock came. All four sat at attention as Mr. Benedict entered.

He smiled when he saw them. "I thought I'd find you four here. I suppose you're waiting for some answers."

"Yes please," Kate said, raising her hand for emphasis. "I for one am _thoroughly_ confused."

Mr. Benedict offered a clipped version of his dolphin laugh and sat down, "I'm afraid that statement contradicts my plans. I was rather hoping I would be the one receiving the answers, not giving them. But, perhaps, I can start you off."

The children nodded consent and Mr. Benedict, with a brief, misty intake of the room, crossed to the bed and sat down as Constance climbed up into his lap. "I've often found that the best place to begin is at the beginning. But, as that may take… more time than we have, I will cut to somewhere in the middle. In this case, one of our many beginnings."

These words brought even Kate to a sitting position. Reynie noticed she sat as far from him as she could get. Things were awkward between them and Reynie hated them. Sticky noticed his tenseness and began polishing his glasses. Constance did her best to contain the huge grin on her face, but the task was more difficult than hiding the sun. Sticky blushed, but smiled back.

Mr. Benedict's eyes took in both these accounts and gave them the space of thoughtful pause to occur. Then, he began. "As you know, my brother had, in a sense, taken over S.Q.'s mind for a period of time. But, what we could only guess was S.Q.'s mind's condition. Did he have control of my brother's limbs or was he simply "sleeping" as my brother told Constance?" He pulled the little girl nearer to him.

"He didn't seem to be lying," Constance offered, struggling just a bit against Mr. Benedict's embrace. Reynie noticed that, though Constance loved Mr. Benedict, she didn't exactly appreciate his show of affection. Especially in front of her friends… and a certain newly bespectacled boy in particular.

"He wasn't… at least, not as far as he knew. He had left poor S.Q. sleeping… but Captain Noland and I woke him."

"Okay, now I get it," Reynie said, lying back on his elbows.

"Excuse me?" Kate asked incredulously. "Never mind… forgot you geniuses were freaky smart like that…" she mumbled. "Well, I'm still confused. Would you mind enlightening me further?" Kate asked, clearly annoyed.

"You know when Amma and Pati left the Cole's house? That was only a cover, or at least an excuse, for Captain Noland and Mr. Benedict to visit S.Q… or Mr. Curtain…" Reynie scratched his head. "Anyhow, when Mr. Curtain's Ten Men came to switch Mr. Curtain with Mr. Benedict—"

"Wait, wait, wait," Sticky stopped him. "Am I the only one who's lost here?"

Kate jerked a thumb toward Sticky, nodding, "I'm with him. What the heck are you talking about? Switched? How is that possible when Mr. Benedict was with us?"

Reynie blushed, "Well… I was only guessing."

"Continue, Reynie," Mr. Benedict said.

"Okay," he said, self-consciously. He had started catching himself lately toying with a new emotion… Pride. He had developed a case of pure boy-wants-to-impress-girl and it was driving him absolutely nuts. Not to mention, Constance taunted him every chance she got. "Well, I believe that it was Mr. Curtains intention to have his Ten Men switch Mr. Benedict with Mr. Curtain. What they didn't know is that S.Q. had converted to _our_ side, see? So when they attempted to switch them—"

"S.Q. pretended to be Mr. Benedict and Mr. Benedcit pretended to be S.Q.!" Constance cried triumphantly.

"Exactly," nodded Mr. Benedict, tapping his nose and then Constance's.

Kate shook her head, "Connie-girl, you _really_ need to stop interrupting Reynie. It's driving _me_ crazy so you must have at least touched a nerve somewhere in that ridiculously patient head."

Constance smiled, "I know."

Kate rolled her eyes.

"I have a question," Reynie spoke up, seemingly ignoring the girls. "Why did McCracken save me?"

"What!" Kate exclaimed. "Since when did you go _out of your mind_ Reynie?"

"Let me reassure you, Kate, that Reynie is quite sane. It was McCracken, rather, who had no access to his real mind. You see, each of my brother's Ten Men was both kidnapped and partially brain-swept. For some time, I have suspected this because of their oddly fitting names." The group nodded, following. "I suspected McCracken in particular because he reminded me of an old _friend,_ " Mr. Curtain's eyes sparkled curiously and he chuckled under his breath. "Curtis Morey, or McCracken as you know him, is the son of my schoolmates. When he came to, as a result of that snakebite, he remembered me and did what he could to help. He and his family have fled the country."

"Good riddance," Kate muttered.

"Didn't you hear any of that Kate?" Sticky asked incredulously. "He was brain-swept!"

"Only partially!" Kate countered.

Sticky paused and then inclined his head, "Touché."

Someone rapped on the door.

"Come in Rhonda!" Constance called.

The lovely young women stepped in, her eyes aglow. "Come on Kate, it's time to get ready!"

"For _What?"_ asked Kate.

"Mr. Benedict's party, of course! Come on, we need your help decorating."

Kate shrugged, "As long as I can hang the banners." She bounded out of the room.

"Oh, and Sticky, your wanted in the kitchen to identify a plant, if you don't mind."

Sticky left too and Constance tumbled after him, pausing to look back at the two remaining. She giggled, "You're about to have a _really_ awkward conversation." She tapped her head, "I'll be listening." She winked and shut the door.

Reynie turned to Mr. Benedict, "Do you know what I'm going to ask, then?"

Mr. Benedict chuckled, "Yes. And the answer is: No, the Coles will not be joining us tonight. As a result of the crisis that took place at their farm, Nicholas was sent home from deployment. They'll be enjoying a quiet, family dinner rather than joining our party." Reynie sighed with relief. "But," Mr. Benedict added, "I wouldn't be worried about young Mark stealing Kate's heart. I think _you_ have it under tight lock and key."

Reynie hid his face, but grinned, "Thank you, sir."

"May I suggest something Reynie?"

He looked up, "Of course."

"Love is one mystery I had no chance to unravel, so there is little I can advise you on," he admitted. "But if you wish to succeed, I have observed that permission is often an expedient possession."

~::~

Milligan's fingers fiddled dexterously with the wires of an old radio. A note stumbled forth followed by a deluge of music. Bright eyes sparkling, he smiled satisfactorily and turned to find Reynie fidgeting behind him.

Reynie's heart beat horse-like across his ribs. "Nice job," he said, gesturing to the radio.

"Thank you," Milligan said, suspiciously. "Can I help you with something, Reynie?"

"Um, yes sir," Reynie stuttered. He cleared his throat as Milligan stepped outside. The yard was decorated in lights, giving the grass and trees the appearance of the host many glowing fairies. Milligan leaned expectantly on an obliging pole and crossed his arms, looking larger and stronger than usual. Reynie swallowed his courage, which had risen threateningly to the surface. "I'd like to know if… would it be okay if I…" He rubbed his neck and took a deep breath, looking Milligan in the eye, "May I ask your daughter to dance tonight?"

Milligan paused, looking quietly down into the grass. Finally, after countless cantering heartbeats on Reynie's end, he looked up, his mouth hard, "I think that'd be fine, Reynie."

Beaming with relief, Reynie fled with a sincere, "Thank you, sir." So quickly did he ascend the steps into the house that he missed Milligan's hearty laugh behind him, which lingered long after he left.

~::~

Reynie pulled at his collar, picking at a sugar cookie on the table beside him. Kate wasn't down yet.

The room was full of milling children—it was an orphanage after all. Mr. Benedict talked and laughed with many of them and all the staff (most elderly) watched him adoringly. Music flowed from the radio and the room was filled with pleasant sounds and scents. Appetizers, Dinner, and Dessert drifted throughout the room, mingling with the noises of conversation, the swish of clothing and the soft thud of the dancers in the next room.

Reynie's eyes drifted upward to the perfectly aligned banners, mostly green and black, that created an almost a plaid pattern above him. They swept from one side of the room all the way to the top of the grand staircase… where Reynie's eyes froze.

Kate Weatherall was in a dress. Once the initial shock passed, Reynie was stunned by how well she pulled it off. Thin straps held up a scarlet gown, brushing just against her knees. It pulled in toward the middle, hugging her waist where—and here Reynie nearly laughed aloud—her bucket hung securely from her bow. Her hair hung loose for once, curled into elaborate spirals and stretched down her back nearly to her waist. Her features—only slightly enhanced by light makeup—glowed in the lights of the party décor. Her lightly glossed lips parted into a huge smile when she saw Reynie and she flew gracefully down the stairs, her low heals clicking on every step.

"Quick hide me," she whispered with playful urgency. "I look ridiculous!"

"I think 'beautiful' is the word your looking for," Reynie managed to say through his misty thoughts.

"Aw, _Reynie!_ " Kate hugged him tight, putting Reynie somewhere back in his right mind. "You look nice too," she added.

'Thanks," said Reynie half-heartedly, looking down at his brown suit. "At least Number Two didn't make this one."

Kate laughed, throwing back her curls. She sighed suddenly as the music swelled in the next room. "Wish we could dance, but I don't have the nerve to ask Mr. Over-protective."

Reynie grinned, grabbing her hand and guiding her toward the dance floor, "I did. Does that mean _I'm_ gutsier than Kate Weatherall?"

Kate stopped him in his tracks with a yank of her arm. "Wait."

"What?" Asked Reynie nervously. "I thought you wanted to—"

"No," she interrupted. Her eyes softened to an adoring glow. "Reynie? Did you _really_ ask Milligan if you could dance… with me?"

"You think I would _without_ his permission?" Reynie asked, putting on a terrified expression. Kate's made no change. Reynie blushed, "I just wanted to make sure if it was all right if I showed… interest in his daughter," he half whispered. He lifted his eyes from the floor, "Is it alright… with you?"

"Reynie," Kate breathed, "Muldoon. What took you so long?" She kissed him—so fast that her lips may not have made impact—on the cheek and they ran off together to the dance floor, both grinning nearly to the point of pain.

~::~

The night progressed in splendor, filled with food and laughter and congratulations—hearty slaps on the back and handshakes all around. Mr. Benedict enjoyed his gifts immensely (all wrapped in green plaid paper) and even made a show of pretending to fall asleep, which received many gasps, laughs, and one very annoyed acclimation from Constance.

The little girl recited a poem (both in honor to the end of the mission and to Mr. Benedict, in the form of a toast):

"Though told almost nothing and lost to just thought

We pummeled the bad guys for we fought and we fought.

Who could be more amazing—who could make us more proud?

Than the man I call father—now say it aloud!

Mr. Benedict, the hero, Mr. Benedict, I say

Here's to your health and a happy birthday.

Without falling asleep (without batting an eye!)

He knocked down those villains, but let none of them die.

How noble, how chivalrous, how very gracious indeed!

Is the man we all honor—the one we know will succeed.

Now our friends all fought bravely (mainly Milligan and Kate)

And, the dreamer I am, I must call it fate

That we all came together, that we put up this fight

(With this big family, we could do naught but right).

So I say this to you (because I know that it's true)

That with Benedict here our start will be new!

So say it with me this time (Please? I worked hard on this rhyme…)

Congratulate him with me! Lift your voice up and chime!"

Here, everyone obligingly lifted their voices while Mr. Benedict blushed.

"Mr. Benedict the hero, Mr. Benedict, I say

Here's to your health and a happy birthday!"

The room exploded into applause and laughter. Constance hugged her dad, followed closely by the rest of the Mysterious Benedict Society.

He looked around at them with bright, green eyes, "I could not," he said, hugging each one in turn, "be more blessed."

~::~

Kate made the plans, of course, and Reynie gathered the crew. Unfortunately, Milligan was on guard, so it'd be hard to get past, but these were _Kate's_ plans they were talking about.

For occasions just as this, Kate had purchased a _very_ long rope, which, even from the top floor of the Manor, left coils upon coils on the ground.

Sticky slid down first with Constance roped securely to his side. He adjusted his glasses and saluted before jumping from the dark rooftop.

Reynie let out a shaky breath before reaching out for the rope himself. Kate touched his shoulder.

"Don't be nervous. You trust me right?" she asked as he turned.

"More than anyone," he said as he jumped.

Kate took a moment to let her smile settle before springing after him into the darkness.

It wasn't far to the place. Just up through some trees and across a short distance where the shadows of three others once traveled nightly.

"It's creepy," Constance said, disgusted. "It looks like someone's decapitated a giant and left it there." She stuck out her tongue to show her disgust.

Kate on the other hand, grinned, "Yeah like some kind of—of epic giant battle!"

"Please, girls," Sticky moaned, "It's disturbing enough as it is."

"Me and Sticky better go… check out first. Make sure it's safe," Reynie offered, taking the first step.

"Yeah, like you're gonna explore it first," Kate laughed, speeding ahead. It was a race. Even Constance joined, running for the small, mouth-like opening.

They stood in the small dome. "Odd," said Sticky.

"What?" asked Reynie.

"It's just that… this telescope is much too new for such an old observatory. They must have had need to replace it."

"The newer the better," Reynie said, shrugging, and went to examine it. Kate immediately found the switches, which opened the dome to the sky.

Sticky helped Constance, who was especially taken with the telescope, look at the stars after everyone had had their turn.

Kate and Reynie lay shoulder to shoulder looking up at the stars. She sighed heavily.

"What's up?" Reynie asked, taking her hand discretely through the dark.

She shrugged, "It's over. Again."

Reynie only laughed, "I wonder how many more times we'll have to say that. Don't worry, it won't be long. Adventures will come."

Constance finally grew sick on the outer universe and came to lay next to Kate and Sticky followed suit, reclining beside the little girl.

"I'm afraid you're right, Reynie," Sticky, who had apparently been listening, sighed. "Life just loves surprises."

Constance squirmed. Kate sighed, "Oh go ahead, Connie-girl. What was I gonna say?"

Constance grinned into the darkness, "Don't call me that. And you were gonna say: 'Good, because I love them too.'" They all lay quietly for a moment before Constance giggled evilly, "You know what else Kate loves? Or should I say _who?"_

Kate clamped her hand over Constance's mouth, "Don't you dare! I will tickle you to death! To death, here me?" But everyone was giggling now and their voices carried to three certain friends sitting together in the night on the edge of a moonlit bluff.


End file.
